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BI^NCA^ C^PELLO 



A. TRA^GMlIUY 



BEING IN COMPLETION OF THE 
FIRST VOLUME OF THE DRAMATIC SERIES 



L A r G H T O N O S B O R N- 



NEW YORK 
JAMES MILLER 
(} 4 7 Broadway 
1868 






eu 



Entered accordiBg to Act of Congress, in the year 1868, by 
LAUGHTON OSBORN, 

In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the 
Southern District of New York. 






Co 






BIAlsrCA CAPELLO 



MDCCCLV 



CHARACTERS 

Primary 

Francesco-Maria de' Medici, Grand Duke of Tuscany. 

Cardinal Ferdinando de' Medici, } 7.7 ,, 

' > Ins orotJiers. 

Don Pietro de' Medici, ' 

Malocuore, a Gentleman of the Grand-duke's household, and 

his confidant. 
Pietro Bonaventuri, at first a Glerh in, the hanhing-house 
of Salviati in Venice, hut suhsequently the Grand-duJce's 
Favorite and Intendant. 
LtrcA Senncccio, his fdlow-clerh and friend, and suhsequently 

of the G. Duke's household. 
Carlo Antonio del Pozzo, Arch-' 
bishop of Pisa, — at one time 
Auditor of the Treasury, 
Ottavio Abbioso, Coadjutor- Bish- 
op of Pistoia and Florentine 
Secretary at Venice, J 



both of the 
Grand-duke's Cabinet. 



BiANCA Capello, at first wife of Bonaventuri, subsequently 

Grand Duchess of Tuscany. 
Donna Isabella de' Medici, the Grand-duke's sister. 
SiGNORA Malocuore, wife of Mcdocuore. 

Secondary 
Paolo GtIORDano Orsini, Duke of Bracciano, husband of Isa- 
bella de' Medici. 
Bartolommeo Capello, Senator of Venice, Bianca's father. 
ViTTORio Capello, her brother. 
G-rimani, Patriarch of Aquileia, her tmcle. 



204 

MiCHiELi, ) Republic. 

Baccio Baldini, ) 

-r, ri r Court Physicians. 

rIETRO Uappelli, ) ^ 

SCHERANO, ^ 

Masnadiere, I 

-^ c assassins. 

Malandrtno, I 

Sgherro, J 

Cagnotto, ) 

-r> > armed servants of the Favorite. 

Brenna, \ •' 

Donna Eleonora di Toledo, wife of Don Pietro. 

Donna Virginia de' Medici, the Grand-diihe's half-sistei _ 

betrothed and subsequently married to Don Cesare d ' Este 
Bonaventurfs Mother. 
AiA, Biancas Governess. 

Count UUsse Bentivorjlio. A Page in BonaventurV s 
household. Two Assassins. 

Mute Persons 
Pellegrina, Bianca^s Daughter^ wife of Bentivoglio. Don Ce- 
sare d' Este. Senators. Magistrates. Lords and 
Ladies of the Court. Venetian Nobles. 
Pages. Soldiers. Servants. 



Scene. In the First Act, in Venice ; in a portion of the Fourth, 

in Rome ; for the rest of the play, in Florence, until 

the catastrophe, — which takes place at Caiano, 

in the neighborhood of Florence. 

Costumes. Those of the latter half of the 16ih Century. 



BIANCA CAPELLO 



Act the First 

Scene I. A room in the Apartment of Bonaventun 
in the Casa Salviati in Venice. 

BONAVENTURI. SeNNUCCIO. 

Senn. Capello's dangliter ? Thou art doubly mad! 

Bonav. All passion is but madness. Why not mine ? 

Senn. All passion is not madness — not as thine. 
Thou art in impulse, act, and object mad. 
To love the flower of all Venetian maids, 
That was not sane : why ! art thou not, as I, 
But Salviati's servant, and low-born? — 

Bonav. What has ? 

Scnn. To dare to make thy passion known, 
That was still madder. — 

Bonav. Could I will it else ? 



206 BIAKCA CAPEIiO 



Can? 

Senn. But to seek "What dost thou seek in fine ? 

Bonav. Nothing. Wilt hear me speak ? Thou art no more 
Luke my companion, friendly although rough, 
And counseling like an elder brother ; thou 
Speak'st without pity, hast no sympathy. 
Though 't was for that, and through the show of that 
Alone, I utter'd what no human ear 
Should otherwise have learn'd. Thou did'st seduce me 
By thy great urgence and thy tone of love 
To throw myself upon thy ofifer'd breast, 
And then brok'st from me, with a shout and laugh. 

Senn. A shout, Pietro'j if thou so must phrase it, 
For I was sore amaz'd ;. but not a laugh. 

Bonav. Yes, with a laugh. For wliat is it but scorn 
That makes thee treat my passion as insane ? 
I look'd for sober counsel, — for reproof; 
But yet for pity, — not for mockery. 

Senn. No. 
Nor hadst it. Canst thou not allowance make 
For my surprise ? It seem'd so strange a thing, 
When I beheld thee pining and cast down. 
Thy sparkling eyes grown heavy like a girl's 
Sick of her maidhood, and thy jocund laugh, 
That had at times contagion even for me, 
Turn'd to a melancholy vacant smile. 
As if thy soul were in the topmost clouds, 
And oft in answer to my happiest speech 
Heard thy inapplicable words, or met. 
As often quite, thy start, and stare, and " Luke, 



ACT I. SO. 1. 207 

Forgive me ! Do not tb.iak me rude ! I am 
Scarce well": it seem'd so strange a thing, 
To learn at last thou wast heart-sick for one 
So high above thee, and so rarely bright, 
It was as though thou sighedst for the moon. — • 
Bonav. Endymion did. 

Senn. That was in fable. 

Bonav. Not 
In fable though, the Moon return'd his sighs. 
That was the natural sequel of true passion, 
Which fires in turn. 

Senn. Thou hast the^ fable wrong. 
It was the Moon lov'd him, who slept through aU. 
Thou may'st be handsome as the Latmian boy. 
Like him, thy moon consoles thee but in dreams. 
Bonav. Not so, by Heaven 1 for I am wide awake, 

And [checking himself.'] 

Senn. Darest not say, that thou art lov'd in turn ? 

Bonav. I dare not say it, but 

Senn. Thou look'st it 1 Naw, 
This is sheer lunacy 1 Moonstruck Pietro ! 
Art thou then well awake ? 

Bonav. I am awake : 
Awake to find that I have dream' d of things 
Not less unreal than Diana's kisses ; 
As of thy heart for instance, and the place 
Methought I held in it ; awake to learn. 
And learn to my dismay, that souls as calm 
And as profound as thine may stir with envy. 



208 BIAIfCA CAPELLO 



Se7m. Pietro ! — But so be it. It is well 

That I should read my nature. It may be 
That thou divinest right. Our friend's self-love 
Jars harshly on the quick sense of our own. 
'T is Heaven's foresight. — But, if envy's gust 
Euffle the surface of my graver spirit, 
Thy vain presumption surges fathom-deep. 

Bonav. Vain ? and presumption ? It is kindly said I 

Scnn. 'T is said, at least, in no disdain of thee. 
Capello's blood floAVS from the mountain rill; 
Thine is like mine, the puddle : so men think. 

Senn. But what of these distinctions knows the heart, 
Or asks? Love is no herald ; flesh and blood, 
Not gules and argent, are his lore : nor can 
The Doge's bonnet, did its jewel'd band 
Gleam on Capello's haughty forehead, throw 
The terror of his function round his child. 
She is herself alone ; lov'd for herself. 

Senn. 'T is thus thine eyes behold her. Bu* for hers • 

Bonav. They look not through her father's robe of state. 
Besides, I am not sure Bianca knows 

Senn. Bianca f Really ! 

Bonac. Wherefore not? I would 
I had not so betray'd me ! But thus far 
Since thou hast brought me to confess, hear on. 
Hear on ? No ! read ! Read there ! 

Handing a note to Senwuccio, after Mssing it imtli rapture. 

Then, carjerlij loatchiiuj his countenance as he reads, 

BoxAVKXTURi continues triumphanthj : 



ACT I. SC. 1. 209 

Art dumb ? Is that 
Diana's beam? And am I yet asleep ? 
Benn. I see no signature — no name without. 

Comes this indeed from her ? from her to thee? 
Bonav. To me from her. 

Senn. It passes all belief 1 
Is there no fraud? Women have snar'd ere now. 
What means this mystery ? [indicating a place 

on the Qioie. 
Bonav. First give it voice. Eead out. 
Let my ears drink the rapture that my eyes 
Have ten times in the hour past reel'd with ; let 
My heart renew its triumph. Eead ! Eead all ! 
Senn. [reading. 

" Surprise — I would not say distrust or fear — 
Made me, perchance, seem harsher than I meant. 
I would amend my fault, if one have been. 
Does thy petition, in thy friend's behoof, 
Bear to be urg'd again, so let me hear it : 
That with prepared ears I may decide, 
If with my quality and maiden shame 
It suit to grant it. She who bears thee this 
Will tell thee more. Thou mayst confide in her. 

As I do in thy nobleness." — And Well ? 

Bonav. Wilt thou without rude hindrance hear me through? 
Senntjccio nods gravely. 
Eesolv'd to speak or die, I chose an hour 
When Blanche's governess came from her prayers, 
And told her that a case of life and death 



210 BIANCA CAPELLO 



Depended on the favor of her ward ; 

"Whose intercession in a friend's behalf 

I must implore in person. The good dame, 

By my strong urgence mov'd — how could she else ? 

I pray'd as to a saint, — at last consented 

That on the morrow I should be receiv'd 

Into their barge, and to her lady's ear 

Breathe out my supplication. 

Senn. And thou went'st? 

Pietro! 

Bonav. Hush I — I went. Bianca's hand — 
'T could be no other there, so small, so white I 
From the CapeUo's gondol-window wav'd 
A kerchief. 'T was a minute. In the next, 
I stood before her — knelt. Her veil was dropp'd, 
Even as I entered, by her guardian's hand. 
Senn. 'T was well the hag had some small conscience. 

Bonav. Luke I » 

At my mute look and motion of reserve, 
Bianca made the dame some steps retire. 
Then softly bade me rise and speak. " me I 
The voice took from me all my power. Perhaps 
The innocent young creature redd the cause 
Of my fresh agitation, if aheady 
Looks, gesture, attitude had not betray'd 
My soul's true object ; for her own sweet speech 
Trembled a httle, as, with downcast mien. 
She bade me gain composure, and once more 
Enjoin'd me rise, if I would have her hear. 



ACT I. SC. 1. 211 

My thoughts came back. I told her the deceit 

My friend's despairing passion made me practice ; 

That not upon her fatlrer's Hps, but hers, 

Hung the decision of his fate ; and then, 

"When I liad pour'd forth all my passionate thoughts, 

Which no more broke in the utterance, but rush'd 

One rapid torrent, of such musical flow 

That my own senses vibrated, and love 

Took from the echo of itself new force, — 

Then did I pray that I might see the face 

That had wrought such sweet mischief She complied. 

Luke I 

Senn. Take breath, Endymion. 

Bonav. Would'st thou hear? 
Senn. Ay ! But expect no sympathy. 

Bonav. Not now. 

1 end the tale but to excuse myself. — 
Transported, madden'd if thou will, by charms 
Which gained by nearness, and whicli pudency 
Color'd to make transcendent, I avow'd 

My friend and I were one. And now in haste 
Comes up the governess, and with reproaches 
Lets down her lady's veil and bids me go. 
I rose — for still I had knelt. "And shall my friend,'' 
I ask'd, "dare then to hope?" — "Hope all men may,' 
Bianca said : " They who are right, hope always." 
Senn. A most sententious maiden ! — Well, so far, 
The mystery is solv'd. But this remains. 
Think'st thou the lady knows thee not her peer ? 



212 BIANCA CAPELLO 



She writes, " Thy nobleness." What means that phrase ? 
Bonav. Foi* one so patient, thou art much in haste. 

Give me the note. — Thou hast heard I left abruptly. 
I fear, alas ! she knows not what I am. [with dejection. 
Senn. Fear, say'st thou ? By St. Luke ! 'tis nobly said I 
I too did fear, Pietro. [extending his hand, luhich Bona- 
venturi does not touch. 
Bonav. [haughtily.] What then? 

jSe7i7i. This: 
Thy honorable nature had succumb'd. 
No ! [as Bonav. is going. 

in this mood thou leav'st me not. 
Bonav. [endeavoring to free himself.] Why stay. 
When from thy coldness and distrustful thoughts 
I fly to Paradise ? and not to play 

The Serpent, as thou 

Sen7i. As I do not think. 
Thou shalt stay till thou hear'st me ; for 'tis thou 
That Avrong'st me, not I thee. Do I not know thee ? 
Daring, impetuous, yet of kindly heart, 
Who among men hath honor, if not thou ? 
But what is human honor ? This one thinks, 
Not for wide worlds he would commit a theft, 
Yet plots, cabals, o'erreaches, undermines, 
And calls it policy. This, who the rare 
And precious gift enjoys to never lie. 
Save in surprise or fright of shame, belies 
His conscience daily by complaisant smiles, 
And in the exaction of his self-love feinrns 



ACT I. SC. 1. 213 

Desires he feels not I Affluence clips the wings 
Of honesty, which flies distress ; ' and longing 
Indulg-'d melts virtue that vras cold as snow. 
Thou art as open as the broad sun-light, 
And aU a man ; yet what ensures thy soul, 
When passion makes it agony to part. 
And happiness, and pride, and dread of shame, 
And pity itself, all urge thee to defer? 

Bonav. My present action. She who brought this billet — 
Given me this morn at mass — a fortnight gone 
Since in the gondola I knelt and sigh'd — 
Comes at the night's fifth hour — 'tis now at hand — 

[looJang off the scene. 
To lead me to Eianca — to her home. 

Senn. At the Capello's palace ? 

Bonav. At the palace. 

Senn. Whither thou goest, to ? 

Bonav. Tell Bianca all : 
To end the dream Avhich laps, perhaps, her senses, 
But is no dream for mine. 

Senn. This thou wilt do ? 

Bonav. I will, [with dejection, yetfirmhj. 

Senn. Now Heaven make thee blest, Pietrol 
Happen what maj^, thou 'It bear no self-reproach 
Og the charg'd conscience. Yet, ah be advis'dl 
Subdue this love ? To what end can it lead ? 
Know'st thou not Venice and the dreaded Ten ? 
Let but her sire denounce thee to the Signory, 
Thy life is not a summer's day. 



214 EIANCA CAPELLO 



Bonav. So be it. 
CIocJc tuithin striTces Five, 
Hark, from the clock-tower ! \^Exit precipitately. 

Senn. Rash, but gallant heart f 
Thou goest downright to manifest destruction: 
For my cold counsel tempers not thy pulse. 
Thou hast call'd it envy. Envy! Can it be? 
So. Let me sift myself. I would not make 
One of another class with those I sketch'd; 
Men who sin not themselves, nor play the fool, 
But grudge the mirth and joy of those who do. 

[Kcit — tlwuglitfuUy. 



ACT I; SC. 2. 215 

Scene II. 

In the Casa CapeTlo. A room in Blanco's Apartment. 

BiANCA and the Governess. 

Bianca walking up and down in agitation. She stops to 
look off the scene. 

Gov. 'T is but two miuutes. Think ! 

Bian. 'T is but the street 
Between us. Two are twice too much. Were I 
As he, I should not be so long. And yet 
She ceases to address her attendant. 
How ardent was he ! Had he not been so, 
I had not ventur'd. But what will he think ? 
Gov. What matters ? He is noble ; then, must see 
How you have suffer' d. 

Bian. Tes, could he but know 
That for the last ten days I scarce have slept. 

Fearing a thousand things, and hoping more 

Why came he not to the house ? He must have seen 
How well he pleas'd me. Could he else, so made ? 
Gov. That may you say. And such a generous hand I 
Pure, all pure gold, the purse he gave me leaving. 
It is a right rich house. 

Bian. Four minutes more I 



216 BIA.NCA aVPELLO 



he is laggard I Hark but I On the stair I 

Now I — Now I — The door, good nurse! 

Enter Boxayenturi. 
BiANCA runs up, as if to tliroiu herself into his arms, "but 
stops, sinks on a seat, and extends her hand, which BoNA- 
VKNTURi, kneeling, takes and kisses. 

Bonav. gentle lady I — 

Dare I once more? 'T is Avhat I scarce had 

hoped ! 
Bian. You speak to chide me. Have I been too bold ? 
Bonav. Bold? 'T was an angel's impulse ! But for this. 
How could I, so unworthy, dare again ? — 

1 could but silent suffer, as till now, 

Through the long weary fortnight, since the hour 
I knelt and ventur'd in another's name 
To tell you I ador'd 3'on, I have suffer'd. 
But this one minute, were it now to end, 
Repays me, for all I for all ! [kissing tenderhj and 

rapturously her hand. . 
Bian. Alas! 

And I But rise, \ivithdraiuing gently her hand. 

— I fear'd I know not well 

What 't was I fear'd. Is it, I was unkind ? 
I would not be, believe me. If in error, 

In the surprise, the if I said too little, 

Or, 0! too much, forgive me, and forget 
All that is wrong in what I said or wrote, 



ACT I. SC. 2. 217 

For it has much annoy'd me. 

Bone: v. This for me ? 
I have not merited that thou shouldst lose 
One half-hour's rest, shouldst feel one moment's care^ 
For such as I. Forgiveness ? Let me pray, 
Once more upon my knees, to be forgiven 
For the deceit through -which this hour is mine. 
Thou smilest. Best, as brightest of thy sex ! 
Hast thou been conscious of my long, long love, 
And find'st it not so criminal ? Indeed, 
I could no longer bear it ; I had died. 
Had I not spoken. [lie taJces her hand, Bianca, in 
her reply, folds the other over his. 
Bian. Wherefore died? Seem'd then 
Bianca so ungentle, when thine eyes 
From thy sad Avindow -watch' d her going out. 
And waited her return ? Didst thou not think, 
Vain man ! the eloquence of those wistful looks 
Made echoes sometimes in the maiden heart 
That knew as yet no love but that of friends 
And parents ? Henceforth thou wilt not despond ? 
Thou hast stolen an easy way to Blanche's heart 1 
Live then to guard it; live for her, live with her. 
Bonav. Forever ! such life were one long dream 
Of Paradise, with no forbidden fruit, 

No serpent, and no Must I not despond ? 

The dream already breaks ; the cherub stands 
Before the portal with the flaming sword, 
And Heaven's decree admits of no reversal. 



218 BIANCA CAPELLO 



Bian. What meau'st thou ? 

Bonav. Can this night endure forever? 
Wouldst thou permit, or could I dare request 
Again admittance to thy chamber ? 

Bian. No! 

"Why shouldst thou need ? My father 

Bonav. my Godl 
Springing up, he comes forward, and Bianca fol- 

loivs Inm to the front of the scene. 
The Governess also comes nearer, though heeping 
still in the background. 
Bian. What is it ails thee ? In my father's name 

Should be no terror. Thou art not his foe ? 
Bonav. O no ! But in thy father's blood is that, 

Though both are mortal, will not mix with mine. 

Bian. Yet thou art noble 

Bonav. IsToble ? 

Bian. And thy house 
7s one whose stem might be entwin'd with ours, 
Bonav. My house ? Whom tak'st thou me for ? — my 

fears! 
Bian. Wo 's me 1 — Art thou not SalvJati ? 

Bonav. No I 
Bian. Nor of his kin ? 

Bonav. Alas 1 nor of his kin. 
Bian. Ileaven I — Speak out! Thou would'st not tor- 
ture me 
Who have been kind to thee ? Say what thou art. 
Bonav. Bonaventuri, Salviati's clerk. 



ACT I. SC. 2. 219 

BiANCA sinlcs on a cliair, which the Governess 
has hrought her, and covers her face with both hands. 
BoNAVENTUKi Tcnecls softly before her. 
Oh dearest lady 1 whom I have so wrong'd 
Not of my will, think not too hardly of me 1 
Not by surprise, not from reluctant lips 
This truth was wrung; believe me, believe 1 
I fear'd your error, and I came to tell. 
To tell you all. Do not be angry with me I 

Bonav. Alas ! I have no anger, only sorrow, 

Sorrow for both of us. — \_She drops her hands. 
— Bonaventuri ! — 

\with a faint smile. 

Thou seest I fear not to pronounce thy name — 
What I have said can never be recall'd ; 
What I have done, that will not be forgotten : 
If it will soothe thy anguish at this parting, 
To know I share it, be it even so. 
And now — farewell ! [extending her hand. 

Bonav. Not yet! In pity, no I 
Thou canst not so dismiss me I Think, think, 
Of the long hours where hope shall never more, 
Never, make day for me ! Think of the past. 
The month on month my yearning heart hath hunger' d, 
Feeding itself upon the single thought 
Of such an hour as this, which thou wouldst shorten 
Thou dost not seem to scorn me : let me then 
Lie at thy feet, and, for some minutes stiU, 
Dream I 'm in TTeavea. 



220 EIAXCA CAPELLO 



Bian. To awaken where? 
Since pari Ave must, wlij' struggle to obtain 
A respite that at best can be but brief? 
Bonav. Because it is my hfe, and all beyond 
Is death and darkness. 

Bian. Ilast thou then for me 
No thought ? Canst thou bear nought for my sake ? 

Bonav. [rising quickli/.] Yes ; 
An age of heartache, will it give you ease. 
I was but selfish : I will go. I go. [moving saclli/ away, 
with his eyes still on Bianca, who rises. 
Gov. [laying her hand on Bonaventuris arm. 

Come then, young man, since you are no one now. 
It is high time that you were gone. 

Bian. How now I 
Aia, know better thine own place, and mine ; 
And, where I honor, learn to show at least 
Some sign of reverence. 

Gov. [loiu, to herself. ] What a change is here ! 
She was a child this morning ! 

Bian. Mind her not: 
I am the mistress here. — Look not so mournful I 

[giving her hand. 
And yet I cannot bid thee not remember. 
Bonav. Could I obey ? — Wilt thou remember me ? 

Wilt thou mourn for me, if Bianca! (so — 

Permit me — 't is the only time — to call thee) 
Whatever happen, thou wilt not condemn me ? 
Thou Avilt not mix my errors with my birth, 



ACT I, £C. 2. 221 

And deem me all uiiAvorthy ? 

Bian. Seem I such? 
"What mean'st thou ? 

Bonav, Heaven bless thee ! and — Farewell I 
As lie is going^ Bianca, xoho has seemed a moment 
stupefied, suddenhj hastens to him. 
Bian. Bonaventuri ! 

Bonav. Whj^ command me back ? 
I thought it past. 

Bian. [talcing his hand^looTcs fixedly and anx- 
iously in his face.'] What didst thou mean by that ? 
There is a desperation in thy look 
That should not be there. Art thou not a man ? 
Is love the only object of man's being ? 
There be far nobler aims; and thou art young, 
Ardent, and bold. Live that I may not blush 
To have shown thee favor, live because thou hast 
Thy life thou knowest not why, and hast no right 
To squander it as if it were thy choice. 
More, thou didst lay it at my feet : 't is mine, 
If thou concede it not, as fits thee rather, 
Thy country's, and thy fellow-men's, thy God's 1 
W^hy art thou silent ? Why that stony look 
Of passionless despair ? Thou dost not love me 1 

Thou wouldst not else 

Bonav. Bianca ! [slowly. , 

Bian. Promise then j 

Thou wilt do nothing desperate, thou wilt 
Do nothing till thou hear'st from me. Thou canst 



222 BIANCA CAPELLO 



Never more enter here 

Gov. \wlio lias loolied on Bianca all the 
while with amazement.'] Not by my will ! 
Bian. Aia ! — But thou shalt hear from me, thou wilt 
Write to me by the messenger, and send. 
Dost thou then promise — solemnly ? 

Bonav. I do — 
By all God's holy angels I — thou art one. 
Bian. Stoop ! — With this kiss [kissing Mm solemnly o<i the 

forehead. 
thou hast Bianca's — friendship. 
I vow it — hear, Heaven ! So long as thou do nought 
To forfeit it. Now go at once ; go quickly. 
The Mooress waits without to lead thee down. 
BoNAVENTURi Mssing passionately Bianca's hand, presses it^ 
clasped^ a moment to his heart, then moves to the 
door, his face still turned on Bianca. 
Gov. ]a.s she conducts him out. 

Mary be prais'd ! here never to come more. 

\_Exeunt Bonav. and Gov. 
BiANCA gazes a moment fixedly on the door, then wrings 

her hands in a paroxysm of grief. 
Bian. Now he is gone, I am a child again. 

Maiy Mother ! St. Mark ! and gentle Luke I [kneeling. 
All angels and good saints ! pray, pray for me 1 
Aid me against myself; I have no strength 
To make the sacrifice wliich Heaven commands. 
She buries her face in the cushion of the chair, sohhing 
bitterly. — Scene closes. 



ACT I. sc. 3. 223 



Scene III. 



A rjoom in Sennuccio's apartment, in the Casa Salviaii. 
Sennuccio sitting at a table reading. 

Enter Bonaventuri. 

Sennuccio looTcs xip, then resumes his occupation. 
Bonaventuri loohs at him for some moments^ then lays 
before him an open letter. 

Bonav. Read. 

Senn. FromBianca? {looking at the signature. 
Bonav. Ay. But read aloud. 

Senn. [reading. 

" Thou ask'st in vain. There are no means. Not one. 
My governess is proof to prayers and gold. 
She threatens even, if I give not o'er, 
To expose us to my father. What to do ? 
I am so watch'd, by day as well as night, 
I cannot meet thee elsevs^here, and here now 
Would put thy hfe in peril and my fame. 
Write me no more such letters, in pity ! 
They burn into my brain. My nights are frightful ; 
And from brief slumbers and distracting dreams 
I wake to weep, to ponder our sad lot, 
To see perhaps thy wan face at the casement, 



224 BIANCA CAPELLO 



Think on thy anguish, Avhich redoubles mine, 

And deem sometimes 't were better both were dead. 

I thought myself more strong Avhen thou wast by, 

But in thy absence find myself the Aveaker, 

Have then, I pray, compassion on us both." 

Thou wilt have, Avilt thou not ? 

Bonav. It is too late. 
I have already written, three days since. 
Senn. And was that generous ? 

Bonav. It was simply just. 
I had compassion on herself and me. 
Senn. Explain. 

Bonav. For that I come ; and for thy aid. — • 
I wrote to say, I would receive her here, 
Here in my rooms, in Salviati's house. 
Senn. [starting up. They hoth come forward. 
Art thou distracted ? 

Bonav. Desperate alone. 
I never spoke more sanely in my life. 
My plan is for salvation. [Senn. about to interrupt. 

Hear ! then judge. 
I told her I would watch for three whole nights, 
Until the day broke. Coming, she should be 
Sacred before me as an enshrin'd saint 
Before its votary. This I truly vow'd, 
By her dead mother, by her living self. 
But coming not, I cast off hope forever. 
And with it my young life, then nothing worth. 
Two nights have pass'd in vain. This early morn 



ACT I. SC. 3. 225 

I saw her at a •window. so white ! 

So supphant with those melancholy eyes ! 

Whose deep-sunk and impurpled orbits shoAv'd 

Long watching, passion, and the pine of care, — 

That my fast purpose trembled. But it holds. 

The tliird night comes : and with it — comes Bianca. 

I feel it in my soul. 

Senn. Thou tak'st her for ? 

Bonav. Capello's child, high-thoughted and most pure ; 

Yet a de.ep-loving woman. She will trust me. 
Senn. And thou? 

Bonav. Will keep my oath. I swear it here, 
As I have sworn it on my knees to God. 
Witness ye saints ! my sister, noAV in Heaven, 
Would not be more immaculate by me 
Than she shall be this night ! 

Senn. What then your aim ? 
Bonav. To marry her. Thou 'It aid me ? 

Senn. No ! 

Bonav. Thou wilt. 
Thou wouldst not scruple to give life to both. 
Senn. Ay, must I do it wrongly. But this life ! • 

To take her from the lap of luxury, to expose her, 
This delicate child, soft-nurtur'd, and high-plac'd, 
This daintiest flower of ah Venetian land, 
To the bleak Avinds of penury, transplanted 
To an ungenial and a barren soil : 

BoNAVENTURi tvalTcs ahovt impatienihj. 
Is this — Stop ! listen to me I — this your life ? 



226 BIANCA CAPELLO 



Better to slay her outright, and to die for 't ! 
That were a crime, but 't would be truer mercy. 
But this is idle talk : for, say she come, 
How know'st thou she is reckless as thyself ? 
'T is a long leap, a marriage 1 

Bonav. She will take it, 
When there is no way left her but to leap. 
Scnn. Ha ! 

Bonav. Wilt thou aid me, Luca ? 'T is not much. 
Senn. Let me hear farther. 

Bonav. When Bianca comes. 
She leaves the portal of her house ajar, 
So that she may steal softly back unseen. 

Now, were it slily clos'd behind her 

Senn. Well? 
Bonav. There is but left, her ruin or to fly. 

Luke ! dearest Luke I I will be all my life 
Bound to thee, wilt thou do me this slight office. 
Senn. Hast thou then done ? — Is this indeed thyself? 
Speak'st thou of real purpose ? Art thou truly 
Pietro Bonaventuri? If thou art. 
Then am I Luke Sennuccio ; and no man 
Durst ever call on me before to do 
A thing so base. 

Bonav. Have patience I 

Senn. Hear now me. 
If thou do not abandon this vile plan, 
I will report thee to the lady's sire — 
Or no ! I will not put in risk thy life ; 



ACT I. sc. 3. 227 

I will expose thee to Bianca's self. 

Bonav. [haiighUly.'] Who gave you right to hold this talk 
to me ? 

Senn. Nature, and threaten'd innocence, which finds 
In every true man a defender. 

Bonav. Luke ! 
I thought thou wast my friend. 

Senn. I am thy friend. 
Thou never hadst a truer. I dare say 
Thou never wilt have one so true again. 
For I will not, to pander to thy passions. 
Stain thy immortal soul. I will not suffer 
What doubtless now to thy distemper'd blood 
Seems venial craft, but one day will appear, 
When the film leaves thine eyes, atrocious guilt. 

Bonav. Thou didst allow me honor. 

Senn. I do still. 
Said I not too, alas for human honor ? 
Alas, that somewhere it has aye some flaw I 
Passion, ambition, indigence, all serve 
To lend it pretexts to excuse its fall. 
Thou, in the hunger of thy famish'd love. 
Dost clutch at bread that is not fairly thine. 
Thou shalt not have it. 

Bonav. Thou dost bear me hard. 
Thou art no lover, and thy cold resolve 
Cuts off the last resource of both our lives. 
For Blanche will pine to death, nor I survive. 

S&nn. So all youth think. And very few think right. 



228 BIANCA CAPELLO 



The storm blows, and the lily stoops her head, 
But lifts it soon, and with the calm revives. 
But, be it otherwise : hast thou not heard 
Thou shalt not evil do that good may come ? 
Be honest, do thy duty : the result 
Is with the All- Powerful, not the feeble will 
Of circumscrib'd and narrowsighted men. 
Pietro ! end this matter as it may, 
Thou art not sinless, knoAving from the first 
Well who thou art, which knew this virgin not. 
Thou hast repair'd that error, like the brave 
And honest soul thou art. Wilt thou fail now ? 
I wiU not think it. Get thee to thy chamber. 
Ask if thou lov'st Bianca or thyself. 
And on the altar of a true affection 
Burn up thy guilty wishes. Angels Avill 
Inhale Avith joy the incense, God approve 
That truest hero, him Avho conquers self. 
Bonav. \_Th,roicing liimself on Scnnuccid's hreast, and with 
emotion. 
Luke ! had I thy spirit ! 

Senn. [caressingly.'] And my blood? 
Virtue, believe, is not to know not sin, 
But the soul's victory when tried by sin. 
Be thou thus virtuous, I Avill say thy love 
Honors Bianca, Avere she born a queen. 

[Exit Bonav. 
Luke, Icaninrj with his hent hand on the table, gazes 
on him seriously as he retires. And Scene closes. 



ACT I. sc. 4. 229 



Scene IY. 

In the Cast Capdlo. 
A room hung with portraits. On a table, two lighted candles. 

Ca'pello. Governess. 

Gov, I meant, your Excellence, to speak of this. 

Cap. Hast thou then notic'd this sad change ? Since when ? 

Gov. 'T is some Aveeks gone since first my lady droop'd. 

I thought it nothing serious, still believing 

A little time would make all well again. — 
Cap. Complain'd my daughter? Sought she for no aid ? 
Gov. Alas! your Excellence, 't is not the bodj' : 

This is some sore distemper of the mind. 
Cap. What mean'st thou ? 

Gov. I would pray to be forgiven 

If I offend ; but my young lady 

Cap. Speak ! 
Gov. I fear, has something heavy on her heart. 
Cap. Mean'st thou, ia fine, my daughter is in love ? 
Gov. May it plettse your Excellence, 'tis nothing less. 
Cap. Be but the object worthy of her love, 

I were well pleas'd that it were nothing more. 

Who is it then ? 

Gov. Your Excellence must know 

My lady would not make of me her fiiend. 



230 BIAIfCA CAPELLO 



Cap. Tliou art lier governess : if, as I am loath 
To even conjecture, there is wrong in this. 
Thou only art to blame. Thou hast my child, 
Daily and niglitly, under thy sole care. 
What can transpire that thou shouldst not observe ? 

Gov. Heaven is my judge, that I in this have done 
My projjer duty. Till the last two days, 
I hop'd that all was well. But yesterday, 
Nor less the one before, the livelong night, * 
My dear young \a.(\j never press'd her bed. 
Walking unquietly from time to time 
Her chamber through. 

Cap. And where wast thou the while ? 

Gov. Twice went I to the door. She thank'd me kindly, 
But bade me leave, as wanting not my help. 

Cap. How is 't to-night ? 

Gov. She has retired early ; 
And all is quiet in her chamber. Haply 
She will sleep well to-night, being so much worn. 

Cap. 'T is likely, very likely. God so grant I 
I will not break this salutary rest. 
But on the morrow bid her be prcpar'd 
For solemn question. — O my darling child I 

He ceases to notice the Governess. 
Let not my colder age efface the sense « 

Of my once passionate youth. When thou Avast born, 
I pray'd tJiat error of the old might not 
One day be mine. Yet is the lesson hard 
For a fond parent's heart I The child is his, 



ACT I. SC. 4. 231 

But not her passions. At the age when most 
She needs his guidance, "vvhen new-born desire 
Makes the first object welcome, and the soul 
Takes cognizance of only things extern, 
Then may he least command ; then, child no more, 
And yet not woman, she escapes his hand, 
Before her unfledg'd sense has power to fly. 
Hast thou done so, Bianca ? Is this love 
Which fevers thy young blood, then this unrest, 
This secret sorrow marks a sense of shame, 

Or unrequited or forbidden jriassion. See ! 

Turning to the pictures. In so doing, he olserves 
the GovEiixESS. 
Thou needst not wait, good Aia. It is now 
Past midnight. Listen at my daughter's door. 
Ere thou retirest ; but disturb her not. — [Exit Gov. 

Regards again the pictures. 
Next to my father Carlo the ambassador's 
Hangs thy sweet image, my Bianca 1 'T is 
One of the best from old Vecelli's hand. 
How hi^ soft pencil and his dulcet grace 
Have beautified and made the canvas live I 
The blood is in those cheeks ! those eyes are moist I 
From those just-jiarted delicate lips I seem 
To feel the warm breath, and my own in turn 
Might almost wave those airy threads of gold 
That shape thy ringlets ! Magic power of color I 
Tet Titian vow'd thou didst surpass his art, 
As did the light its symbol on his board.* 



232 BIAXCA CAPliLLO 



Such do not sigh in vain. TIiou sorrowest then 
For a forbidden passion which is shame ; 

And my okl house Thou shalt not dim its pride! 

Forget thou the Capello, and a veil 
Shall hide thy forfeit station, like Falier's, 
Who too forswore Lis birthright. 'T is a thought 
To keep me waking. Let me drive it hence. 

He lifts one of the candles towards the picture. 

One nearer look, my child, before I go. 

Scene closes. 



ACT I. sc. 5. 233 



SCEXE V. 

A street, idih a canal crossing it above ; ivJiere, hy a hridge 

which s^Kins the canal, are ohscurchj seen, in the faint 

morninj-iiviligJit, the proics of gondolas. Forward, 

on either side the street, facing each other, the 

Casa Caj)elIo and the Casa Salviati. 

From the portid of ilie luttcr 
En ter 

BlANOA and BONAVENTCIU, 

the latter having a small darh-lant-rn, 
which he masks. 

Bian, See ! the gray dawn ! Farewell ! A last — 

Yfo 's me, I cannot say again — Farewell! 
Bonav. [pressing her to his hreast. 

Haply, 't is not forever. Heaven bless thee ! 
Thy word remember. 

Bian. Never, never, never 
To be another's, if not thine. Farewell I 
JUmhracing. Bianca crosses over to the palace on the right. 
But i.lmost instantly, coming hack in terror: 
Ruin ! ruin ! God I the door is clos'd. 



234 BIANCA CAPELLO 



Bonav. Hast tliop no key ? 

Bian. None, none ! And if I had, 
I durst not use it for the noise. 

Bonav. Stay here. 
I will essay. Perhaps the door Avill yield. 
Bian. No, no 1 Try not. There is no help but flight. 
Bonav. Whither? 

Bian. Hast thou no j^ai'ents? 

Bonav. Ay, but poor. 
Bian. Ko matter; I can work. They shall be mine. 

Come Bonaventuri I Come, my husband ! Come \ 
Bcnav. Alas, Bianca ! all my worldly means 

Lies in this little purse. The rest was given. 
How gladly ! for that first blest scene with thee 
"Which costs thee now so dear. 

Bian. Be it small or great, 
It must be. My few rings will eke it out. 
Tarry not. Every moment here is fraught 
With more than death. I cannot face again 
My father. Come. Art thou a man ? Must I 
Entreat thee to do that, which ruot long since 
Thou wculdst have thought salvation ? 

Bonav. 'T is for thee. 

Wilt thou meet poverty and honest shame 

Bian. Eather than what awaits me here ? That, that, 
Canst thou ask that ? linger not I Each minute 
Is so much lost to flight that must be quick. 
Foi they will folloAV us. It is thy death. 



ACT I. sc. 5. 235 

Bonav. Come then, Bianca ; now mine, life oi' death I 
To the first gondola. Once out of Venice, 
The first priest, if thou wilt, shall make us one. 

Bian. Yes. my father ! 

Bonav. Hush, Bianca! Come. 

E^e takes up the lantern. 
They move up the scene in the shadoiu of the houses. 

The Drop falls. 



206 BIANCA CAPELLO 



Act the Second 

Scene I. A cTiainber in the Pitti Palace at Florence. 

The Grand Duke 

seatedj leaning on a table in a pensive attitude. Malo- 

cuoRE standing apart, a little brfore him. 

Mai. [in a tone of deferential inquiry. 

My lord the Duke is not so well to-day. 
A 2^ctuse. 
With still more deference."] 

Will my lord pardon his poor servant's zeal, 

And give command the hunt shall not take place ? 
O. D. [without looking vp. 

For my ill-humor why should hundreds lack 

Their custom'd pleasure ? Let the order stand. 
Again a pause. 
Mai. 'T was from the last hunt that my liege came back 

With that strange sorrow which still wounds our hearts. 
A longrr pause. 
G. D. Thou art a courtier, Malocuor. Men say 

Thou hast sharp cj^es, seest quickly and scest far. 

Thou boastcst of thy zeal in our behalf. 

Forget thy art.° What Avhisper stirs the court 

Touchin2: our stranpfcness? 



ACT II. sc. 1. 237 

Mai. Some ascribe the cause 
To depravation of the humors, bile, 
Infarction of the fpleen, — sucli natural ills; 
Some to the weight of heavy cares of state ; 
Others — your Highness bids that 1 should speak — 
To discontent with your Archducal spouse. 
G. D. [hastPy. 

They do me wrong : I hold her — in esteem. 
Mai. Which often is the antipodes of love. 
G. D. And to which guess does Malocuore lean ? 
Mai. The last, with some admixture of the first. 

Your Highness' malady is of the heart. 
G. D. Ha ! — Men say well : thou hast keen eyes. 

Mai Would then 
The royal patient deign to state«his case, 
Perhaps the surgeon might j^ropound a cure. 
The G. D. rises and walks to and fro. 
G. D. [after a pause. 

Hear then. But can I trust thee ? 

Mai. Shall I prove 
That I am worthy ? Shall I state, myself, 
Your Highness' symptoms, with the when and where, 
And how, of the attack ? 

G. D. What know'st thou ? Speak 1 
Mai. 'T was at the hist hunt. As the cavalcade 

Swept through the suburbs, and the people flock'd 
To door and window to behold their Prince, 
In a small cottage ^^'ith a vine-clad porch, 
That stood secluded where the highway turns, 



238 BIANCA CAPELLO 



Leaii'd from a narrow casement next tlie roof, 

A fair j^oung creature of some eighteen years. 

So strangely beautiful, and with a mien 

So far above the seeming of her place, 

The Great Duke, starting, drew his bridle short, 

To gaze 

G. D. Art thou the Devil? • 

Mai. I am but 
Your Highness' humble subject — with sharp eyes. 
G, D. No more ! Thou hast thy monarch's secret. He ? • 
Mai. His subject's instant aid, so he will deign 
Graciously to command it. 

G. D. Instant ? Then 
Sawest thou not, with all thy sight, what I 
Saw and will voucjli. This is no peasant maid, 
Simple and uninstructed ; far less one 
Of that most numerous class in every life, 
Whose vanity throws out perpetual lures. 
Tempting temptation. Else the glance that pierc'd 
Had made me whole. But thou dost iiot believe 
In virtuous women ? 

Mai. A.J, as in wall'd towns. 
Many are strong, but none impregnable. 
A vigorous siege and obstinate resolve 
Will batter down or bring a Troy to terms. 
Where open combat fiils, some wooden horse 
Lets in the troop that makes the stronghold ours. 
Is it your Highness' will, this very day 
The chance is given you to assault the place. 



ACT II. SC. 1, 239 

G. D. What sayst thou ? 

Mai. Be it not ascrib'd a fault, 
That I have dar'd anticipate your -will. 

G. D. Who gave thee orders ? 

Mai. Will my lord but hear? - 
I have ventur'd only to make clear the approach, 
By which your Highness might lay siege in form. 

G. D. Speak plainly, Malocuor, and leave thy cant. 
I like it not. Here is no vile intrigue ; 
And shall be none. 

Mai. Returning from the chase, 
The Sovereign lifted up his eyes again, 
Unto the cottage-window. But ho more 
The star was burning there that made the day ; 
And over his visage came like darkness. This, 
Wlien I saw this, and mark'd from day to day 
The sadness lessen not ; when, furthermore 

G. D. '[impatiently. 

Well, well ! we have admitted thou hast eyes. 

Mai. Pardon, your Grace ! — My spouse, by my com- 
mand. 
Made easily acquaintance with the dame 
Who is this angel's mother, then herself. 
She has seen her often, finds still some pretence 
To do her kindness, — though, unlike the dame, 
The daughter is both proud and strangely shy. 

G. D. How speaks your spouse her bearing otherwise ? 

Mai. Modest, reserv'd ; but, like her voice and mien, 
Above her sphere. 



240 BIA.JSCA CAPELLO 



G. D. And beauty ? 

Mai. Marvelous. 
G. D. [taJdng Jtis hand. 

All, Malocuore ! And this priceless maid ? 

Mai. So rarely worthy of a monarch's love ; 

Has then my lord no wish to see her near ? 
G. D. Wouldst drive me mad ? Speak on ! 

Mai. No wish to be 
Beside her — and alone — and even now ? 
G. D. What! what! Thou didst indeed promise instant 

aid! 
Mai. This very hour my spouse will bring her home. 
G. D. To thine own" house ? 

Mai. To mine : my sovereign's house, 
Will he so grace it. 

G. D. And this very hour ? 
He rests ids hand on Malocuor's shoulder. 
Dear ^lalocuore ! This is too much joy ! 
What shall I do to compensate thy love ? 
Thou hast indeed thy keen eyes us'd riglit well. — 
Thou wilt attend me. — - Saidst thou not, this hour ? — 
Bid come our Chamberlain. — [^Exit Mai. 

How bright the day I 
Sitting down hy the table. 
It seems to me as now I first had life. 

Rising, he passes through a door ahove, and 

Scene closes. 



ACT II. SO. 2. 241 



Scene II. 

Tn Malocuores house. The dressing-room of Signora Mal&^ 
cuore. 

BiANCA. The Signora. 
The latter disjjJai/ing her Jewels and finery. 

Sign. You are a strange fair creature. One would think 

These toys had been your playthings all your life. 

Yet that is not a long one cither. 

Bian. Why 

Should usage only breed indifference? Rather 

It is the innate relish or distaste 

For such things makes them valued or despis'd. 

Age pranks itself therein like lighter youth. 
Sign. You are a young philosopher. 

Vian. I know 

The diflerence betwixt folly and good sense. 

It were not wise in i^ie to covet what, 

Even were 't attainable, would not fit my place. 

Sign. That place may l)ctter; and these jewels then 

Bian. Would still have little value in my eyes. 

I dress to please my husband ; and his taste 

Is Avell contented Avith this simple garb. 



242 BIANCA CAPELLO 



JS/(/)i. In soolli, it docs not misbecome 3"ou. I htive known 

[signijlcantli/^ 

A sovereign piince to admire as plain a robe. 

Pray let me hang this chain about your neck. 

Thus, you are lovely. Do not take it off. 

It well relieves the ivory of that skin. 
Bian. [tranquillij removing the chain. 

But is in painful contrast to the rest. 

Signora, to oblige my husband's mother 

More than yourself, I have let you bring me hither. 

Thanking your courtesy, suffer me to leave. 
Sign. [looJcing off the sceiie, as if hearing something. 

A little longer. I have yet to show you, 

Gentle Eianca, what is worth this all. 

[Exit. 
Bian. It must be greatly so, if thou wouldst dazzle 

The rich Capello's child. Capello ! Father ! 

Mourn'st thou Bianca yet ? Or has just anger 

Stifled all sorrow for tliy truant girl ? 

Who has one only grief, the thought that thou 

Art unforgiving and yei unconsol'd.^ 

Enter 

the Grand Duke — eagerly, 

hut becomes at once emhanrtssed, ivhile Bianca holes 

surj'triscdj but steadg. 

G. D. Pardon ! I [stammering. 

Bian. Signora Malocuore 



ACT II. SC 2. 243 

Has stepp'd out for a moment. 

G. D. The Signora 

Shall be excus'd. Her absence gives me room 

To make, without the encumbrance of a third, 

The acquaintance of the loveliest of her sex. 
Bian. This cannot be the master of the house. 
G. D. The master's master, and your beauty's slave. 

Bian. Ah! — It is 'T is ! I see now. The Gran cl 

Duke ? 
G. D. Francis of Medici, who Do not stoop ! 

'T is I should rather kneel, wouldst thou permit, 

Fairest Bianca. 

Bian. Speak not so, my lord ! 

That tone becomes not either you or me, — 

I have an earnest prayer to make your Grace. 

'T is fi small matter, but concerns me much. 
G. D. Else first. ISTow, what is there that thou canst ask, 

Saving his honor and his people's weal, 

That Francis will not grant ? Think it then granted, 

So thou Avilt one accord to me in turn, 

Bianca, and my love 

Bian. My lord! my lord! 

I am — a marry' d woman. 

G. D. Marry'd ? Well ! 

Am I not marry'd too ? Alas ! the heart 

Cannot be bound so easily as the hand. 
Bian. But the will may, and should when reason bids. 
G. D. Reason now bids me to obey my will. ^ 

The flame thy beauty kindled thy sense fans. 



244 niAxcA CAPEixo 

I had not heard thy speech, when on my eyes, 

Lovely Bianca, 

Bian. Pardon me, my hege. 
That I dare interrupt, impute it solely 
Unto my duty, to you and to myself. 
If I could ever listen, plac'd as now, 
To such wild words as these from such as you, — 
As I do not believe I ever should, — 
Yet is my will not free as yours ; my heart 
Is, like my hand, my husband's. 

G. D. Every word 
But adds new motive to my passion, showing 
How rightfully 'tis plac'd. Thou shouldst be silent, 
Wouldst thou not foster feelings, which, in sooth, 
Needed no nourishment. 

Bian. Then let me hence. 
Such protestations — pardon me, my liege — 
Demean yourself, your august spouse, and me. 

[Offering to go. lie sfoj^s her, 
G. D. Art thou insensible ? Thou art not vain. 
But hast thou no compassion ? 

Bian. I have more. 
You are my Prince, albeit I was not born 
Your subject. Men report, and I believe, 
You are among the noblest of crown'd heads. 
My eyes have noted in your form and mien 
What women value ; and my ears have found 
' Sense in the tone and purport of your speecli. 
Thus amiable, thus gifted, so high-plac'd, 



ACT II, SC. 2. 245 

You cannot lack for dames in all your court 
Fairer than your poor handmaid, noble too, 
Who would joy in your homage, and respond 
Haply unto your love, if — let mc dare 
To speak thus — you will do yourself that wrong 
To offer it. 

G. D. And are they such as thou? 
Thy very words prove otherwise. If such. 
They would not listen more than thou. No, thou, 
Thou only, who, believe me ! since these eyes 
First saw thy fatal beauty, hast alone 
Been mistress of my senses and my thoughts. 

Thou only, fair 

Bian. !My lord, I must, I can not, 
Will not listen longer. All the honor, 
Tlie reverence that I owe you, that I render; 
But my first duty is to God. Permit mc 
Thus to perform it. \]ier hand on the door, 
G. D. \fitopping her. 

No. If it must be, 
'T is I will go. Bianca, have me not, 
I pray, in disestccm. Let Francis hold 
The next place in thy bosom, if thou canst, 
To thy most happy husband. Thou shalt not 
Say I abus'd my privilege. In love 
I am like other men, and, loving so. 
Like any gallant man I take my leave. 

{Exit^ howlng iviih sad deference. 
Bian. A noble prince. Not conscious, surely, he 



246 BIANCA CAPELLO 



Of fliis vile plot. All ! the arch-plotter comes. 

Enter the Sigxora, with a casJcet. 

Sign. I have kept you too long waiting. Pardon. — Hero 
Is what will wake your wonrler. [opening the casket. 

Bian. That Avas clone 
During your aljsence bravely. Shut the box. 
Sign. What! Have you seen the Duke? I thought as 
much. 
He often takes us by surprise. I hope 
You have seiz'd the occasion, to present your prayer ? 
Blan. Was it for that, you urg'd me to come hither ? 
Sign. No. But I promised access to His Highness: 
And I am happy, have you us'd this chance. 
Sweet, look not grave : and do not liaste away. 
Bian. I do not like surprises : and this one 

Has brought me no advantage. I will not 
Trouble you longer. 

Sign. Nay, you shall not go 
As you were angry. I shall see you home. 

[Exeunt 



ACT II. sc. 3. 247 



* Scene III. 

An A7itecliam'ber in the Jioiise of Mahcuore. 

En ter 

from one side the Gr. Duke, as jiassing through^ 

escorted by Malocuor. 

The Gr. D. stojys short, laying his hand on hisfolloiver's arm. 

G. D. I have seen her, heard her, touch' d her. All my 
nerves 
Tingle with pleasure. Yet my heart is sad. 
Mai. Is it that all is Avon ? Accomplish'd hope 
Often brings sadness. 

G. D. Since it nothing leaves 
To feed expectance ? or, the goal once reach'd, 
We find the prize not worth the strain and sweat ? 
My longing is unsated, my bright prize 
Grows brighter on my vision, like the sun 
As day advances. Yet my heart is sad : 
For — all is lost. 

Mai. Then is it the first time 
Your Highness has been vanquish'd. 

G. D. The first time 
Defeat is dearer to my heart than victory. 
Thou look'st surprised. I tell thee, Malocuor, 



248 BIA^CA CAPELLO 



All thou hast said, all that thy spouse has told, 
All that in heat of fancy I have dreani'd. 
Fall short to picture beauty, sense and worth, 
That have no rivals save themselves. She is * 
The loveliest, best, and Avisest of her sex. 

Mai. May I infer, the most obdurate too ? 

G. D. What else? I said, " the best" : and she is wed. 

Mai. 'T is the first trial. When we shake the tree, 
The apples fall not. But we lend our strength 
To newer efforts; and they drop in time. 

G. D. That is your over-ripe, and worm-gnaw'd fruit. 
Bianca's stem is tough. 

Jfa7. Let royal favor. 
Pour sunshine on the treasure of the tree, 
The crude pulji mellows, and the stubborn stem, 
Now useless, withers up. Invite the lady 
To grace your Highness' Court. 

G. D. That would I gladly. 
But not to rot the virtue I admire. 
The tree shall bear its honors in our midst. 
And its fruit give out fragrance undespoil'd. 
'T is something still to sec her, hear her, know 
That she is near me. Once beyond my reach, 
I sho-uld be wretched, fearing she were lost. 
Know'st thou her husband ? To be lord of her, 
He should be not ignoble. 

IM. Not in mien. 
The man is fair to look on, and well-spoken. 
My lord might give him place about his 2~icrson. 



ACT II. SC. 3. 24D 

G. D. See it be done. Promise him what thou wilt, 

So it be not a phice of public trust. 
Zlal. Your Grace shall be obey'd, and, more — be happy. 
They resume their way through the antechamber^ 

Mai-OCUore ceremoniously conducting^ and Exeunt. 



Scene IV. 



A poorly furnished chamber in the house of BonaventurCs 
Parents. 

BONAVENTURI. His MoTHER. 

Moth. 'T is as thou sayest, Pietro, and our luck 
Is surely blossoming. And glad am I, 
If only for Bianca's sake, 't is so. 
To see that delicate creature, night and day, 
Toiling Avith those soft hands, that ne'er were made 
For menial labor, makes my heart bleed. 

Bonav. Yet 
She does not murmur. 

Moth. More an angel she. 
An angel is she. Oft I wonder, son, 
Though thou art brave and comely, thou couldst win 



250 BIANCA CAPELLO 



Bo rare a maiden. But I wonder not, 

Once Avon, thou gav'st up all to make her thine. 

Bonav. She gave up all too, mother ; and that all 
Was more a thousand times. 

Moth. The heavier then 
Her loss. I fear she feels it so. Her brow, 
Methinks, grows sadden'd, and her cheek more pale. 
I would she had less care on her young heart. 

Bonav. What can we do ? Our money is all spent. 
Until the Duke's protection be procur'd, 
I dare not stir abroad to seek for work. 
I wonder that Bianca was so bold 
To gaze from window when tlie Court rode by. 

Moth. 'T was but an instant, from the upper floor. 
Thou shouldst not blame her. 

Bonav. And I did not. Yet 
The risk was great. And therefore I rejoice 
In this court-lady's favor. If nought else. 
The Duke may shield us. That is one care less. 
Was not that wheels ? [listening. 

Moth, [ojyeninr/ the casement. 

The gracious dame herself, 
In her brave equijiage, has brought her back I 

Bonav. She comes. Bianca I 

Enter Bianca. 
She throws herself into her husband's arms. 

Bian. 0, let us begone I 



ACT II. SC. 3. 251 

Bonav. Whither ? What is the matter ? lias the Duke 
Eefus'd his safeguard? 

Motli. Have you seen His Grace ? 
Bian. Yes, I have seen him, and will not again. 
Bonaventuri ! my husband ! 

Bonav. Speak I ■ 
What is it ? 

Bian. Paiin 1 Paiin, if we stay ; 
Hope, safety, happiness, all things in flight. 
Let it be instant ! 

Bonav. Whither ? And the means ? 
Venice can reach us elsewhere. As well here. 
Bian. No ! not as well. This place is bann'd of Heaven. 
The world elsewhere is all for us to choose. 
Bonaventuri /w/c7s his arms about lier as 
she hangs on Jtis hreast, — tJte Mother loohing on in 
speechless iconder^ and 

the Drop falls. 



252 BIAXC.V CAPELLO 



Act the Third 
- Sce7ie I. As in Act II. Sc. II. 

SiGNORA MalOCUORE. 

Unte); 

in festival dress^ Malocuore. 

ffe /lings himself weariedhj on a couch^ ivithout removing 

his hat. 

Mai. 'T is monstrous ! Florence stands agape. Fools ask ; 
Is this a Prince ? or some great hostile king's 
High servant sent to ratify a peace ? 
And wise men answer low : "Bianca's brother," 
Just as thou seest me, wearied unto death, 
So see a hundred nobles, dragg'd in state 
To swell the triumph of Vittorio, son 
Of a Venetian Senator. \^flinging his hat off in disdain. 

Sign. And who 
But thou to blame ? Of all thy fine-wove schemes 
To advance thyself, and stretch thy purse and mine, 
What is the upshot ? O'er thee, step by step, 
Strides Bonaventuri ; and the prude, his wife, 
Eides over me and all. 

Hal. Peace I Fret me not. 



ACT III. sc. 1. 253 



I am not now in mood. 

Sign. To list the truth ? 
'T is wholesome though. Thy aching bones are part 
Of thy just penance ; and my knotty facts 
Shall lash thee to new virtue. 

ii/i(?. Well; proceed. 
Only hear me in turn. 

Sign. Bianca houses 
ISTot in the suburbs in a cottage now, 
But near the Trinild, in palace- walls 
That shame our own: her low-born husband rolls 
In wealth beyond his trading master's, holds 
His head above the nobles, with a pride 

Mai. Will one day hurl him headlong. But his spouse 
Is gentle still. Why shouldst thou carp at her ? 

Sign. She treats me with an insolent disdain, 
Or looks me over. 

Mai. Ay ; she knows thee Avell. 

Sign. Ila! 

MaJ. Was 't not thou that pandcr'd to the Duke ? 

Sign. At whose base prompting ? If my palm is black, 
Thou art in to the elbow. Was it I 
That brought her to the Court ? I had left her poor. 
Her natural pride'' now swollen by all this pomp, 
With courtiers cringing at her dainty feet 
Who scarcely kiss'd the crown'd Joanna's hand, 
She trifles with the Duke, and plays the chaste, 
While he, the more she frowns, the more adores. 
Is not that so ? 



254 BIANCA CAPKLLO 



Mid. It is; but shall not bo; 
Though I deem nat, ns tlum, JJianca A'igns. 
Sign. "What now plan toward? {ilisduinfuUy. 

J\!(tl. Thou knowcst tho ho2)Cs I built 
On the bold Favorilo's amour wilh (ho rriucoss? 
Sign. The base was quicksand. So tho fabric foil. 

The dissolute Duchess makes the wife's cheiik pale, 
3^ut not hoi- heart. It still beats for hor lord, 
Or seems to. 

Iful. 1 have what will chango its pnkse. [Guing. 

If she resist this! [Iiolding iqi for a moment^ at a 

distancPj a scaled letter. 

Even thou I hope. 

A mine will spring tho lower which stands a siege. 

[Exit. 
Sign. Subtle nialigner 1 Thou mayst fivthom man, 
Hut hast no plummet to explore our sex. 
Thou think'st I know thee not. Thou had'st better 

trust me! 
Thy dallying with tho Cardinal I see. 
Bo'waro! A crafty priest has double craft. 
'The mine thou digg'st against Bianca's faith 
May sjtlit the rock Avhereon the nnnor stands. 

[ShetiirnSj as going. And 

Scene closes. 



ACT III. sc. 2. 25o 



ScESE n. 

.4 roc/TO I'/i the OM Medici PfJ/xce (the re-ridence of 
Don. Pidro.) 

ISAEF.LLA- ElEOKOEA. 

Isa. Content thee. Tlxat I fling aTZ'aj my hours 
On Francis' pet, Is not the man is bold, 
Or young, or handsome — though I weigh the worth 
Of all these qualities — l)ut that I hate 
His wife. 

Eleo. [in great surprige. 

I thought thou lavoredst the Capellol 
Ifa. As thy dear lord, my brother does. In he-art 
I loathe her, 

EWj. And for what ? 

ha. Beca'r^e I loathe her. 
What matters it ? Xot always do we know 
Our cause of hat*?. 

Eleo. Not always care to know, 
iw. Or care to know. Be it as thou wilt So say, 
I am her rival; say, that men desert 
Calypso's isle of da.intie8 for the web 
Of chaste Penelope ; is 't not too much 
The hypocrite should make both thee and me 



256 BLiNCA CAPELLO 



Odious before our lords, and in tlie court 
Teach men to estimate our freer lives 
By lier stiff model ? Harmless as a dove 
Fools may esteem lier ; but the serpent's wisdora 
Prompts her mock coyness. If Joanna, whom 
My brother Ferdinand so loves (because 
, Her weak spine promises the Duke no heir 

That long shall live.) in her nov/-coming throes^ 
Which threaten peril, die, behold a chance 
Bianca may improve ! 

Eleo. Thou art not serious ? 

Isa. Our sire was, who in his later day 

Married Camiha. She Avas not the peer 
In beauty, worth, or birth of this Capcllo, 
Francis has cloister'd her,^ but not the less 
Will do as his sire, mad for love as he. 

Eleo. Ah ! this is why the Cardinal and my lord 
Precipitate the ripening of our plot. 

Isa. It will not do. Bernard' Girolami, 

The two Capponi, linger yet in France; 

The Alamanni, Machiavelli, all, 

Though eager, wait their secret coming, ripe, 

Tet unresolv'd. The Cardinal But hush t 

Here comes a doubtful friend. Eleonor', 
Watch well your lips. 

Enter Mai.occore. 

What passes in the town, 



ACT III. SC. 2, 257 



Crood Signor Malocuor ? 

Mdl. May it please your Grace, 
The storm breaks not as yet ; but thunder rolls 
At the horizon. ISToAV the peace is over 
Between the Cardinal and our Sovereign Lord, 
His Eminence' agents stir the popular mind 
With satires on the adventuress, and psalms 
In praise of good Joanna, whose near death 
Must come of Victor's triumph ! " The Capello 
Win not go down to future times a saint, 
If my lord's foes can help it. — Going hence. 
Left my lord Cardinal any charge for me ? 

Isa. None. But be watchful. Thou wilt hear from him 
Perhaps from Eome. 

Mai. I humbly take my leave. 

l^Exit — hy the 

side he had entered. The two princesses Exeunt hy opposite side.^* 



258 BIANCA CAPELLO 



Scene III. 

Room in the Pitti Palace. As in Ad II. Be. I. 

GrRAND Duke. Don Pietro de' Medici. Duke or 
Bracciano. 

The Grand Dul;e seated. 

Brae. Your Highness has a twofold stake in this. 

Your sister is my spouse, your insolent favorite — 
So let me call him — is her open lover. 
Does Isabella's conduct shame your House, 
His prodigal pomp and measureless assumption 
Wound 3^our chief nobles' pride, and tempt your people- 
To mutiny, clamorous that they are not heard. 

Don P. My liege and brother : Bracciano's words 
Express his wish and motive : my resolve 
Is fix'd. Eleonora shall not make 
My name a byword. 

G. D. [risincj.l That thyself hast done. 
Thy wantonness and license are unmatclrd. 
Nor canst thou fling one stone against thy spouse 
Should not rebound on thee. 

Don P. My luxury 
Is not fed from thy treasure. For my spouse, 



ACT iir. £C. 3. 259 

The Arcliducliess' wrongs are not so secret. 

G.D. Ha! — 
Brother, the cleft betwixt us yawns too wide 
To need distension. This much is to say : 
I would not have the Duke of Alba wroth. 

Eleonora's death 

Don P. May drive him mad. 
What then ? it is my quarrel, none of thine. 
I reck not the Toledos. Mov'd I not 
Don Pedro in this matter ? With what boot ? 
He let not even his sire, Garzia, know, 
But screen'd his strumpet sister in my spite." 

* 
The G. DnKE ivalJcs up and down a few moments 

in anxious thought^ then^ turning to the 

Duke of Bracciano: 

G. D. Orsini, will it not suffice for thee 
To shut up Isabella ? Cloister'd life 
Leaves her repentance, yet concludes thy shame. 

Brae. But gluts not vengeance. Sure, my liege o'erlooks 
The Orsini's honor. 

0. D. Kot so, Duke, not so. 
Have not the Medici shed blood enough 
Of kindred veins ? Wouldst thou exact this too ? 
She was my father's darling. It is hard. 

Walks vjp and down with signs of agitation. 
Then, addressing hoth : 



260 EIAXCA CAPELLO 



For Bonaventuri — Let me frankly speak : 
I trust to both jouv lionors — If I wink 
At Ilia egregious folly, think ye then 
My pleasure goes with my forgiveness ? No, 
He should have died ere this ; but men would say — 
I slew him to ascend Bianca's bed. , 
Do7i P. We will provide for that, so thou wilt promise 
To hold us not to answer for the deed. 

The, G. D. stands tliougldful for a moment. 

G. D. Pietro, our brother Don Giovanni died 

Like rigkteous Abel. The assassin fell, ^ 

Stabb'd by his father, in his mother's arms. 
I will not imitate my brother's crime, 
Nor my stern father's vengeance. 

Brae. And for me ? 
G. D. My sister is thy spouse. I cannot punish 

What, plac'd as thou, I might myself have done. 
\IIe hows in sign of dismissal^ and 

Exeunt Don P. and Brae, 

The Grand Duke loolzs after them a 

moment thovghtfuJhj^ then moves slowly towards the 

cliair — and scene changes to 



ACT III. SC. 4. 2G1 



Scene IV. 

A magnificent room in the palace of Bonaventuri. 

Enter Bonavi-nturi, 

leading in with great animation Sennuccio, 

u-ho follows tcith mar]:ed reluctance. 

Bonav. Welcome once more ! A thousand, thousand times, 

Welcome to Florence ! Make this house thy home. 

Command me every way. Why art so grave ? 

Thou Tvouldst have fled me in the public street. 

Couldst thou tlien think Pietro could be else 

To Luca than Pietro ? 

Senn. Yea. And there 

Perhaps I did thee wrong. But elsewhere too? 

Why didst thou flee from Venice? That Ijad scheme 

Thou wouldst persuade me to ? 

Bonav. [changing color.] Dost ask me here^ 

If I be lawful master of my own ? 
iSenn. No; for thou art not. Thou didst steal thy wife. 
Bonav. SennucciOj I bear much from thee. 

&nn. Is 't not 

True thou didst rob the old man of his child, 

AVhen thou didst suffer me to tliink thou wouldst not? 
Bonav. But not to beggary I bore her. Lo ! 



262 BIA^^CA CAPELLO 



The amends is am2:)lo, and the sire appeas'd. 
This day thou sawest her brother, hke a prince 
Attended, ride in triumph to my house ; 
Where he now gladly d\yells. 

Senn. The more his shame, 
Knowing how it was got. 

Bonav. Thou dar'st ! 

Senn. Not say 
One ATord that is not truth. Wilt th(3%i maintain 
This palace was given by the Duke to thee? 
Bonav. I do. It is my meed, and fits my place. 
I have risen in his service step by step. 
All know I am his Favorite. 

Senn. And thy wife ? 
Bonav. His Grace adores her. But that hurts her not. 

Senn. No ? Yet they say in Florence 

Bonav. What is said ? 
Senn. [hesitating, then, slowlij. 

Slie is to Francis, what Camilla was 
To Cosmo ere he wed her. 

Bonav. 'T is a lie ! 
The atrocious slander of the Grand Duke's foes, 
Led by the intriguing Cardinal. Bianca 
From the first Avarn'd me — still Avould have me fly. 
Senn. Yet thou rcmaincst? — [looking at him ivich aston- 
ishment. 
Let me see thy wife. 
Bonav. Gladly. Come now. Thou then wilt do me right. 
Thou then 



..^4^. 



ACT III. SC. 4. 263 

Enter a Page, 
Well ? 

Page. Bo not angry, sir ! The note 
I was bearing to the Duches?, by mischance, 
Or stolen, is lost. I am snre 't is not my fault. 
I miss'tl it only when I reach' d the door. 
Bonav. Thou art very careless. Get thee back at once. 
Tell to her Highness thy mishap, and say, 
I will be shortly Avith her Grace. \_Exit Page. 

— iSTow, Luke. 
[fibout to lead him off. 
Scnn. Stay yet. What is this Duchess ? I have heard 
Strange tales to thy dishonor. Men assert, 

The dissolute Isabella 

Bonav. [ivitJi confusion, yet with vanitg. 
a freak ! 
Her Highness shoAvs me favor, 

Senn. As she docs 
Her lord's own kinsman. Have a care ! Thou goest 
Straight to thy fall. Beware the Oi'sini ! 

Bonav. [impatienilg.] Come. 

As he is leading Sknnuccio off, Boxaventuri sto2)s. 

Say nothing of this letter to Bianca. 

Senn. She then ? 

Bonav. Still loves me dearly. It might grieve her. 
Senn. And is that true ? Then thou deserv'st to fall. 

[Exeunt. 



264 BIANCA CAPELLO 



Scene V. 

Another Apartment in the Same. 

BiANCA discovered in a dejected attitude. 

Bian. And this is splendor ! this is pleasure ! this 

The world calls happiness! Would I could exchange 
All that is now for Avdiat alone was ours, 
When in that humble home I toil'd all day, 
As never yet my father's handmaids toil'd ! 
Then slept I well ; ni_v cheek was pale indeed, 
But not Avith sorrow; for my husband's heart 
Was all my own. \^Comes foricard. 

And is it no more mine? 
Haply, his vanity alone is mov'd. 
Wealth, luxury, the notice of the great. 
All SAvell his pride. Alas! he will not see 
There be distinctions Avhich are far from honor. 
Sure of my heart, Avliich Avell he knoAvs is his, 
lie glories in the Duke's mad passion, and counts 
Its harvest only, reckless that the Avorld 
Deems it is gather'd from his partner's shame. 
He comes. And Avith a stranger. 

Enter Bonavexturi and Sennuccio. 

A srrave face 



ACT III. sc. 5. 265 

That pleases me. 

Bonav. Bianca, welcorae bid 
To Luke Senniiccio, my old Venice friend. 
Bian. All of my husband's friends are welcome here. 
But a true friend, as I have heard you call'd, 
Sits next my heart. From heart then welcome, sir. 

{^giving Iter hand. 
J3onav. Adieu, awhile. Bianca, I have wrung 

Consent from Luke to make his quarters here, 

£cnn. But 

Bonav. Nay, revoke not ! I shall hold thee bound. 
Keep him engag'd, love, till my soon return, [going. 
Bian. Why must thou go ? Must it be every night ? 
JDonav. 'T is nothing — - a mishap. 'T is not for long. 

[Exit hastily. 
Sennuccto hols after him with indignation, 
and luitli pihj on Bian'ca. 
Bian. [observing flie tool: 

Pray, mind me not. I ought not to be vex'd. 

I [Recovering ivith an effort. 

Sir, you are fresh from Yenice. Left you tlien 
Tlie Adriatic in my brother's train ? 
Senn. No, I have idled in my native town 
Some days. 

Bian. And came not once to see my lord ? 
Signer ! And he thought so much of you ! 
Senn. I knew not that his feelings were not chang'd. 
The gay, rich courtier, favorite of the Duke, 
Was not my fellow-clerk of former days. 



266 BIANCA CAPELLO 



Bian. You do him wrong ; his heart is still the same. 
Have you not found it so ? 

Senn, But could I know it ? 
"What gave me right to press on his new fortune 
The reminiscence of a rusty time ? 
Bian. Old friendsliip, and the knowlege you had had 
Of his brave heart. 

Senn. Alas, Signoral when 
I saw in mien the outward man so chang'd, 
Needs must I credit what the people said. 
Bian. What said they ? Tell me 1 

Senn. Can you bear the truth ? 
Bian. Your quality of plainness I have heard of; 
Oft, for my husband's sake, have wish'd it near. 
I hear nought but from lying lips ; my eyes, 
They serve me, painfully and well. What say 
The folk of Bonaventuri? 

Senn. Let me first, 
Signora, put a question. Is it true, 
That 3'ou have pray'd your husband flee from here ? 
Bian. It is, I think, my daily prayer. 

Senn. And why? 
A pause. 
Bian. Here is not safe for either h.im or me. 
Senn. Isolemnhj.l It is not safe for either you or him. 
Bian. What mean you ? Ah ! 't is this that I would ask. 
What say the people of us; of us both? 
The wrong they do my honor can I help ? 
It is his will, and I submit to bask me 



ACT III. SC. 5. ?G7 

In the hot sunshine of the Court. But oh ! 
For the old shadow of my humble life I ' 
ISTot for my father's roof — I would not be 
Other than Avcd, — but for the humble shadow 
"Where liv'd my husband all in all to me, 
For I to him was all ! [weeps. 

Senn. And is it now 
Too late for this ? 

Blan. For him — not me. He loves 
Too well the pomp of this most wretched life. 
Senn. Wretched indeed ! where every breath he draws 
Is deadlj'-perilous to himself, and blasts — 
Pardon ! — the good name of his spouse. 

Blan. 'T is frank. 
This thou hast heard. This is the common fame 
I too have learn'd to read in all I see ; 
For not a whisper yet invades my ears. 
I read it in the wicked eyes, that flash 
Malignant triumph Avhen not bent on mine, 
Then suddenly, when my gaze encounters theirs, 
Look meek as angels', or grow loving-soft. 
I know how busy are the Grand Duke's foes. 
They sow thick calumnies, and the poison-seed 
WiU sprout when I am dead. Bianca's name 
Shall be enroU'd with all tliat in her sex 
Is impudent, artful, — it may be, debauch'd ; 
And all because the husband that she lov'd 
Was weak. 

Senn. And selfish. 



268 BIANCA CArELLO 



Bian. No, no; say not that! 
His lieart is good : lie knows not tliat I suffer. 

Enter a Page. 

Page. Tlie Signor Malocuore. 

Bian. Let him Avait. \_Page about to go. 
Senn. Rather, I talvo my leave, [going. 

Bian. Go not, I pray. • 

Believe me, I have not known such relief, 
Not since this weary prison-life at Court, 
Or, if you will go, you will soon be back ? 
You will not disappoint my husband's hope 
And mine ? 

/S'cnn. I will not : for you are sincere. 
Lady, for your sake, here a day or two 
I Avill sojourn. 

Bian. So you shall make these walls 
To me more suflerable. [Exit JSeiimiccio, lowing iviih 
an air of deep respect and sg7npathy. 
To Pagp.] Show tlic courtier in. [Exit Page. 
A brave good man ! How his unburnish'd gold 
Makes vile the tinsel of such knaves as this ! 

Enter Malocuore. 

Hal. Most excellent lady ! if I should intrude 

Bian. At this unwonted hour for him, what brings 
The Grand Duke's confidant? 



ACT III. sc. 5. 269 

Mai. The present matter 
Looks rather to your honor'd spouse, than you. 

Talcing from his vest a letter. 
This writing is liis liand, I tliiulc. The adch'ess 
Is known to you. [gives it. 

BiANCA regards the letter ivitJi agitation/ 
Malocuoke icatching her with maiignant pleasure. 

Bian. [with an effort.'] How came tliis to your hands ? 
Mai. What matters it ? Tlie purport you will find 
Concerns you nearly. 

Biaji. [recovering, and with sternness. 
Brought it you for that ? 
And hop'd you I would read it? [flings the letter on a 

table. 
Mai. Hop'd you would, 
In justice to yourself, here ascertain 
The measure of your wrongs. 

Bian. [tvith increasing severity and with scorn. 
That with your master 
I might consent to riglit them ! 

Mai. The redress 
Lies with yourself. Madonna. But, to know 

How grossly you are cozen'd by your lord 

Bian. Sir, touch him not ! It is a dastard's part 
To vilify the absent.' 

Mai. [discomposed. Then, gravely : 
I have done 



270 BIANCA CAPELLO 



My duty toward a lady whom I honor, 

My lord adores, and my own spouse holds dear. 

[about to go. 
Bian. And has your duty further prompted you 
To ope this missive ? [lifting it. 

Mai. [commanding Jiimself. 
See, madam, for yourself. 
The silken thread, the seal, are still unbroken. 
Bian. Then shall they so remain. [She Jwlds the letter in the 

Jlame of a candle. 
Mai. Wliat would you do ? 
Bian. Destroy forever what 't would shame my lord 
To think I knew of, and prevent in you 
The hope that in your absence I would read it. 
'T is done. You know me better now. Good night. 
[Exit — with an expression of 

deep despite — Mai. 
Oh Bonavcnturi ! And for thee, for this, 
I gave up all ! [clasping her hands in anguish. 
My heart! my heart! my heart! 

[Buries her face in her hands, 

sohhing. And 

Scene closes. 



ACT III. SC. 6. 271 



Scene VI. 

A street, having others crossing it. 

It is starlight. On the right, a luhiter fortion of the shj 

shows the moon to he rising. 

Enter 

Sgherro, Masnadiehe, ScnERANO, Malandrino, 

and other Assassins. 

Sgher. Scherano, Malancliino, get you quickly 
To the Oisini palace, for the task 
That 's laid out there. The knave that keeps to-night 
The gate will smooth your way. Whisper my name. — 
Make a clean job. You are to use no weapons. 
Ply but your fingers. 

Malan. Captain, let me stay. 
Here is more manly work. 

Sgher. But pays no better. 
Why, thou art nice ! Is not Bravone gone 
To Cafaggiolo, with the bold Lucchesan, 
To rid Don Pictro of his Spanish wife ? 

Malan. But hast thou men enough ? The fop, they say, 
Is full of mettle ; and the two stout fellows, 
That follow him, look as they Avould use their SAVOrds, 

Seller. One of them may. The other is bought olF. 



BIANCA CAPEIXO 



^gher. Which makes ns six to two. They must indeed 
Be devils to match us. To thy proper Avork. 

[Exeunt Sche?: and Malan. 
Here comes a lantern. 'T is our game. This Avay. 
The Assassins secrete themselves in one of tlie ci'oss streets. 

Enter 

BoNAYKNTURi, preceded hy Ekexna icitli a lantern^ 

and followed hy Cagxotto: hoth well-armed. 

Bren. Wc are beset! [Jailing haclc on the others. 
Bonav. Stand by me, men. 

Bren. [running ojf.] Not I ! 
They are two to one. [Exit. 

Bonav. Base coward! 

Cagnot. Traitor rather: 
He has carried off the light. 

Bonav. We shall not need it. 
The moon is o'er the houses' tops enough 
To let us see their blades. They are on us now. 
Back to the wall, Cagnotto. 

During this dialogue^ the Assassins, 

V)ho had spread themselves out so as to prevent escape, 

come forward, Sgiierro in advance, to the two, 

who stand with their lachs to the icall. 

Sgher. [to C'agnotlo.] Get thee gone. 
One is our man. That is not thou. 



ACT III. SC. 6. 2V5 



C'i'gnot. [ciit'inj Jam down.] It is 
For thee. 
An Assassin. Thou hast made me Captain. Thanks ! 

[icounding C'agnof.j ivlio falls^ 
Cagnot. Master, I have done you service. See me paid. 

{^Dies^ 
Bonav. [j'unning the assasnn through. 

'T is done, my brave. So. [disabling another. 

Halt, you other three ! 
What would you ? Money ? Take it. Let me hence^ 
And ten times o'er the amount is yours to boot. 
Masn. Coin thy blood into ducats if thou wilt, 

'T is in thy veins alone we seek them. Thus. 
All three remaining Assassins rush on Bonaventuri at oncCj. 
ichOj after an animated resistance and repeated 
wounds^ falls. 
Bonav. Bianca! Thou 'rt — aveng'd! 

Masn. The Orsini too. 
Quiet? [leaning over the hody. 
Assass. This will make sure, [raising his lueajyon. 

Masn. No ! 'T is enougli. 
He has fougiit bravely, and our work is done. 
The Moon, now risen over the houses' tops, 
throws its light upon the group. 
The Assassins disperse^ leading off their wounded comrade, and 

Scene closes. 



274 BIANCA CArELLO 



Scene VII. 

In the Or sini Palace, The hedchaniber of Isabella. 

Isabella asleep. 
Beside the hed^ on a stand, a taper and a silver hand-hdl. 

Miter, a-tiptoe, 

ScHERANO and Malandrino. 

They speak in an wider-tone. 

Scher. Shall I awake her ? 

Malan. No, 't is better thus. 
Going to the led.'] A most fan- creature 1 

Scher. Let us Avakc her then, 
And hear her prayers. What ho I Your Highness ! Up ! 
Isa. Who are you ? Ah I [she staiis up and rings the bell. 
Scher. Cry, ring. There arc no cars. 
The Duke has taken especial care of that. 
Isa. [wildlg.] Has my lord sent to murder me ? 

Malan. Even so. 
Isa. Let mc escape I I am not fit to die. 

I will make you richer far than he will do. 
My brothers too will heap wealth on you both. 
jScher. Which of tlicm ? Don Pietro's wife even now 
By her lord's will is going where you shall go. 



ACT III. SO. 7. 275 

Isa. [sinhinci had;.] Accursed House of Medici ! 

' Seller. Ay, so 

Say I ! Amen ! I would we were well-rid 
Of all the race. 

/^■a. Have mercy ! Take this ring. 
'T is worth a thousand ducats. 

Malan. {taldng it.] 'T will not save you. 
Seller. Quick to your prayers. Your lover by this time 
Is well carv'd up. 

Isa. Troilo- Orsini ? 

MaJan. No, 
Uonaventuri.. 
Isa. [falling back again.] God is just! 

Seller, [pressing a pillow over her face.'] Why so; 
'T is a good prayer. — Thou dost nought, Malandrino I 
Malan. [sullenly. 

My hands were made to clutch an iron sword-hilt, 
Not to choke women. 

Seller. Only take their rings. 
'T is nice distinction ! 

Isa. Oh! 
Seller. "What ! not j'ct done ? 
Thou art strong, to be so fair. [^1 p>ause. He lifts the 

pillow. 
Still naw. 
Malan. Come then. 
I 'd rather kill ten men than do this over. 

Exeunt — Malan. looling hach 
tipon the bed, as he moves. 



276 BIAKCA CAPELLO 



SCEXE VIII. 

In Bonaventuri's palace. As in Scene V. 

BoNAVENTURi 1/jing on a couch. 

At his head, one on either side, the Court Physicians^ 

Baldini and Cappellt. Bianca hneeling 

hij the Couch J holding his 

hand clasped in hers. Sennuccio standing at 

the foot. 

Bian. Thou shalt have justice ! Thou shalt hear it vow'di 
By his own hps! Thy spirit shall go down, 
Unto the biding-place of all the dead, 
Appeas'd ! Yittorlo will bring back the Duke. 
He has pray'd me test his friendship. I have kueel'dt 
But once for favor ; I will kneel once more, 
And thy poor bleeding wounds, belov'd Pietro, 
Shall cry with me for vengeance. — 

Bonav. [feehhj.'] He will come — 
Too late : my life — ebbs fast. 

Bian. Have mercy, God I 
Sustain him yet awhile, rcnown'd Baldini ! 
Master Cappelli,'" is all art in vain ? 

Bald, [feeling the lurist of the hand Bianca abandons to him.. 
Alas, Signora ! all that art can do 



ACT III. sc. 8. 277 



Is now to watch its own prognostications 
Fatally realiz'd. 

Capp. [feeling the other wrist. 
If your honor'd spouse, 
Lady, has aught at heart he fain would utter, 
Let him be quick. This draught will give him strengtli, 
Yet a brief space. {Bonav. drinlis. 

Bonav. Biancal 

Bian. [hissing Jiis hand. 
Speak, beloved I 
Thy will shall be my law. 

Bonav. [reviving. 

Canst thou — forgive me ? 
Bian. Thou hast done no wrong; none that I ever ponder'd 

With aught but sorrow — sorrow for thj^self. 
Bonav. Thou knoAvest not all. That night — we fled from 

Yenice 

Raise me. — Still higher, Doctor. Thank you. — Then, 

Y'hen on the stairs I left you — to make sure, 

I said, that all was safe — I stole away 

To — shut the portal of your father's house. 

That barr'd return for aye. Breath! breath, God! 

BoNAVEXTUfti, panting. — A brief pause. 

Bian. Be sooth' d. 'T was passion made thee to forget 
Duty and honor. I have not repented, 
Save for my father's sake, to have fled from home. 
I have liv'd happy, tiU — till 



278 EIAXCA CAPELLO 



Bonav. Till I wrong' d tliee. 
I am justly punish'd. Seek not — to avenge me. 

Senmiccio Oli ! — The drauglit ! the draught, 

Cappelli ! 

Drinks again. Pause, 
Quickly ! My last sand 's running out. Bianca — 
Take to thy heart — Sennuccio. A true friend, 
He did abhor my — treachery. Let him be — 
"Warmly commended — to my lord the Duke. 
He will — well serve him — as I — ne'er have done. 

Enter Vittorio Capello. 

Bian. [starting up eagerly. 
Is his Grace coming? 

Vitt. News had reach'd the Palace, 
The Lady Isabella and the spouse 
Of Don Pietro suddenly were dead. — 
Bonav. Murder'd ! — Heaven's justice ! — Murder'd I 

Falls hack, gasping, into tJie arms of the attendants, 
Vitt. The Grand Duchess, 
Hearing, was seiz'd with travail premature, 
And cannot live beyond the hour. 

The Physicians, already in excitement^ 

hastily resigning Bonaventuri to Sennuccio, maJcefor 

the door, hut paibse on the sill, as Bonaventuri, 

springing up half-erect, exclaims to Bianca: 



ACT III. sc. 8. 279 

Bonav. My star 
Is set! I sec — ascend the whitening sky, 
Lord of the day — thy planet ! Hail, Grand Duchess ! 

Falls bach 
Thus — Bonaventuri's murder — is aveng'd — 
And thou — art recompens'd. [Dies. 

Senn. It is all over. 

With a piercing shriek, Bianca 

throws herself lopon the hody. The Phvsicians, 

one instant more lingering, hurry from the scene, 

ViTTORio, icith hands folded, loohs from the foot of 

the couch tipon the corpse, and Senxuccio 

at the head bends over it, and 

slowly 

The Drop falls.'* 



280 BlAN^CA CAPELLO 



Act the FouRTn 

Scene I. A saloon in in the PifU Palace. 

DoNXA Virginia and Sigxora Malocuore. 

Sign. How does your Highness like her for a sister ? 

Virg. 'Well. 

Sign. "Well? ' But for a mistress? 

Virg. Even as much. 
I find her nothing chang'd. Our Sovereign Lady 
Is the Signora Bonaventuri still. 

Sign. Ay, so I tliink her. S!ie can never bo 
Aught but the v\'idow of a banker's clerk, 

Virg. But that is not my meaning. She was ever 
More than the Favorite's Avil'e. A noble lady, 
Who still has been the pattern of our sex, — 
"Whoso virtues have no rivals but hci- gi'accs, — 
And those scarce match'd. ^ly brother has done well. 
Did not the proud Republic this day crown her 
Their voyul daughter, she were still his peer. 

Sign. You do surprise me. Have her witch's-arts 
Enclianted too yoiw Highness ? " 

Virg. You foi"gct, 
Signora i\ralocuor, of whom you speak. 
The Grand Duke's bride, Biauca, has no arts 



ACT IV, SC. 1. 281 

Save those which nature taught her. I had thought 
The rabblement alone behev'd such tales. 

Sign. I did but jest. I was, knows not your Grace? 
Donna Bianca's first and fastest friend. 
Well pleas'd am I to find your Highness' heart, 
So far as the young prince, Don CiEsar's right 
Permits, is given so well. But may I ask. 
Does the Grand Duchess give hers in return ? 

Virg, She does to all who love her. Even her foes 
May boast her kindness. 

JSign. Yet your Highness' mother — 
Pray pardon me — is pining, cloister'd still. 

Virg. That is my brother's fault, not hers. 

JSign. She has 
The power however to move that brother's heart. 
She us'd it for the Cardinal, her foe. 
Why not for you ? 

Virg. My mother was as kind, 
And for the Cardinal did what she has done, 
Open'd the ro3\al coffers. Why has not 
The Cardinal, Avho pretends to love my mother, 
In gratitude mov'd the Duchess to this act? 

.Sign. Haply for that he knew it were in vain. 

Virg. I will essay. In this high festal time, 
Fill'd to the brim with joy and happy pride, 

The Duke's heart may flow over 

Sign. But not hers^ 

Virg. [ivithout noticing the interruption. 

• — And the rich superllux make glad the heart 



282 BIANCA CAPELLO 



Of Cosmo's lonely widow. — Do not stir. 

[as Sign, attends her goinff, 
I need you not, Signora. [Exit. 
Sign, [returning^ after seeing Virginia ceremonioiislii through 
the door.} Why not say : 

" Of the Grand-duchess dowager " ? Artless fool 1 
That hast a child's heart with a woman's head. 
The daughter of Camilla, thou dost well 
To take Bianca's part : thy upstart dam 
Was such another mushroom, vain and proud, 
And beautiful as she. Come but the day 
That Ferdinand shall mount his brother's throne, 
The fote of the new Duchess is like hers, — 
Or \\?i\)\y worse, for the proud Churchman hates her. 
And yet — methinks — he loves her too, with love 
After his fashion, like his father's son. 
I must watch this. Camilla freed or not, 
St. Mark's new daughter shall not win thereby. {Exit 



ACT IV. SC. 2. 283 



SCEXE II." 

A liall in the same. 

Enter ^ 

from opposite sides, 

Don Pietko and the ARCiiBisnop of Pisa. 

Tlie laittr stopping ceremoniously for the Prince to pass, 

Don Pietko goes vp to him. 

Bon P. Well met, Arclibishop. 'T is a glorious day 
For tiie Capcllo. 

ArcJih. And for you, my lord ? 

Don P. Even as you see. I, with the bastard John, 
Marshal'd the guard of honor at the Gate 
Right -willingly. By Heaven I it -was a show I 
You, who Avith Abbioso and the rest 
Met at Firenzucil the pompous train,*" 
Can witness that. And when'the pageant pass'd 
Between our glittering lines, amid the roar 
Of cannon, and the peal of all the bells, 
I thought how Cardinal Ferdinand Avould wince : 
And that was joy for me. 

Archb. Alas, my lord! 
That you will visit with this evil will 
Your pious brother I 



284 lilAXCA CArELI.O 



Don. P. My pious brotlier ! Is 't 
Of Cosmo's son jom speak ? Or think you well 
I take for holy all a Churchman's cap, 
Mitre or hat may cover ? You do right 
Perhaps to love him. 'T was his hand that laid 
The first step in your scale of fortune. "What 
Have I to thank him for ? That he was got 
Before me ? He has cause to dread, and hates, 
Bianca : she may bear Francesco sons. 
I have no cause for either fear or hate. 
Dies the Grand Duke without heirs male, upstarts 
My Cardinal brother, doffs the purple, and takes 
His coveted place. Sometimes he makes me blind 
To his dark views, and presses me to marry. 
But now and then comes daylight, and I see 
Clearly — as now. 

Archb. Your Grace will yet admit 
His Eminence is sincere, when once consider'd 
'T is not the Duke's new marriage is oppos'd. 
But marriage with the Intendant's widow, unmeet 
For Cosmo's heir and Cosmo's ancient blood, 
Unmeet to follow union with the House 
Of Hapsburg. To succeed the late Grand Duchess, 
The Emperor Rodolph gladly had bestow'd 
A child of Archduke Charles. Such match had pleas'd 
My lord the Cardinal. 

Don P. Think you so ? What then ? 
What is our blood that it should scorn Capcllo's ? 
Is it so many more than tenscore years. 



ACT ly. sc 2. 285 

Since Averado, son of the Lucclicsan, 

Portion'd Lis mighty fortune, got by trade, 

^Between his six sons ? ^yhence arose our House. 

Not then the triple flower-de-luce emblaz'd 

The middle roundle of our shield in chief. 

Our power was all, — nor that without dispute; 

■Our rank a usurpation ; and our title ? 

Why, know not all men, fifty years agone 

'Our beast still ramp'd where gleams the lilied crown ? " 

■God's might I the throne of Clement's bastard son, 

-Founded by perfidy on public wrong, 

Is all too new, that his unlineal heirs 

"Should in the second generation vaunt 

A scarce-acknowledg'd royalty.'* 'T is trick I 

By holy John, as patent as this hand I 

Did Ferdinand scorn Camilla? Yet was she 

No equal of Bianca. Lo, this day, 

Adopting her the daughter of the State, 

The proud Republic crowns our Duchess queen, 

Peer of the Queen of Hungary and her 

IVho sat in Cyprus. "Why is he displcas'd ? 

Because her lord is Cosmo's eldest son. 

Camilla could not bear a male should be 

His senior. No, Archbishop, it is not 

The Archduchess Ferdinand Avould choose, but one 

He knows tlie Grand Duke would not choose. 

Archb. My lord, 
I cannot credit this. The Cardinal Prince 
Is holy. 



288 EIANCA CAPELLO 



Don p. You may say so. But you are 
A man, Del Pozzo, of no common mind. 
You know the Cardinal is a worldly princo 
And an unmatch'd dissembler. 

Enter Abbioso. 

Is 't not so. 
Good Bishop ? 

Ahh. Pleases it your Grace to speak 
Of Avhat and Avhom ? 

Don P. Of my pure brother, pious 
Cardinal Ferdinand. Iloldst thou him a saint? 
Ahh. My opinion of the Cardinal is known. 
I love him not. 

Don P. With reason. Late at Rome 
He holp to make St. Peter's Vicar loath 
To hoist thee to the half Pistoian see : 
Ah, Abbioso? Get thee quickly hence 
To the Lngunes. In thy new function there, 
Bland Secretary, serve thy liege lord Francis, 
Near the Pregadi." Here thou shalt not quarrel 
With Holy Church. 

Archh. I would, your Grace, that none 
Might quarrel here. Our sovereign is the lord 
Of his own will. What pleases him to do, 
In his born right, that should content us also. 
And with a virtuous and high-bred fair dame, 
As is our Lady, even the Cardinal must 



ACT IV. sc. 2. 287 

In time be pleas'd. 

Don P. So let liim be or not, 
Philip of Spain approves. Thougli Austria mnrmurj 
Spite the whole College and the Pope to boot 
Others Avill shovv' like sense. — But time calls oCf, 
Wo must prepare us to attend in pomp 
The solemn crowning of the titular Queen, 
And the rcnew'd high nuptials. How will like 
Your Cardinal that? 

Ahh. He has sent one gentleman 
To watch the game and make report; himself 
Too busy with affairs of Heaven to come. 
Don P. An impotent insult. Laugh you not, Archbishop ? 
Archh. I know nought impotent in the hand or head 
Of the lord Cardinal. [Exit Don Pietro. 

Ahb. No ; nor in his fangs. 
The Medici are venom'd serpents all. 
Archh, Have care, Ottavio ! I am known no traitor, 
Or thou hadst never risk'd that thrust. 

Ahh. I hope 
The new-create Grand Duchess may not prove 
Its point prophetical. Let her, I say, 
Peware the Cardinal Medici's venom'd fang! -° 

[Exeunt at opposite sides. 



288- BIANCA CAPELLO 



Scene III. 

The Grand Duchess's Apartment in the same. 

BiANCA, majnificcntly arrayed, hut ivithout the royal mantle. 
Virginia, who has her hand in Blanco's. On their 
right, a little behind, IJiauca^s daughter Pellegrixa ivith 
her hushand Bentivoglio. On the left, at a like dis~ 
tuiice, SiGXORA Malocuoue. 

Enter 

Capello, u-itJi the Patriarch o/Aquileia. 

Behind them, Vittorio. 

Bian. It shall be so, Virginia. Doubt it not. 

Virginia retires leside the Signora — on whom she 
looks triumi^hantly. 
O my clear father ! Uncle ! ISIay I deem 
This clay makes full requital for the past ? 
"' Tlic sorrow that I caus'd thee, the dishonor 
Brought, though I meant it not, upon thy House ? 
Cap. No more of that, my cliild. 'T was not thy erimo. 
The good Sennuccio has disclos'd me all. 
Know'st thou, Bianca — did thy brother tell thee, 
How I had hung tliy i)ictui'e all with black. 
That day I lost thee ? liOAV the veil was drawn. 
When the Duke's favor shining on thy spouso 



ACT IV. SO. 3. 289 

Made liLm tliy equal? But wlien Sforza came, 
Praying tlic Senate to receive as son 
Of Venice the Great Duke himself; and when, 
Like Catharine Cornaro, thou wast made 
The Child of the Republic, and a Queen ; 
Then did I cause a crown surmount the frame. 
But 't was not needed : Titian, had he hv'd, 
Had pointed to the air of native pride "^ 
That dignifies thy beauty, and had said : 
" Superfluous decoration ! Nature gave 
A better diadem. And that I drew. 
Lo, Avhere in every trait the destin'd Queen 1 " 
Is it not true, Grimani ? O my child ! 
Thou wast my darling ever, my best joy ; 
Thou art my glory now, my House's pride. 
Pafr. The will of Heaven Avorks oft by humble ways. 
That jewel his bold subject stole and wore 
The Duke hath made the centre of his crown. 
Keep thou, gem, thy lustre without flaw I 
So shall the people bless thee. — Francis comes. 

Enter 

the Grand Duke, attended hij Sexxuccio. 

The G. D. is spJendidhj attired^ but ivitlwut his robes of 

state. Senn'uccio also, liJce all the other 

persons jj^'esejif, is in full costume as for some 

extraordinary occasion of Court-festival. 

G. D- Good morrow, friends. — Bianca 1 My fair Queen ! — 



290 BIAXCA CAPELLO 



Sennuccio, luitli Capello, cCc, ta7ces.Jus 
place ivith the oilier personages in the haclcground. 
How well tliis jiomp becomes tliee ! Thou art noV 
A jewel fitly .set. And yet, believe, 
Thy lustre shines not more in Francis' eyes 
Now than that morn, when, from the little window, 
Like a rich picture in a sorry frame, 
That sweet face dawn'd a moment on his gaze ; 
Not more ador'd than when, a twelvemonth since, 
Thy heart first open'd to the houseless love 
That long had knock'd in vain to be let in. 
Yet do I joy, for thy sake, joy for mine, 
'"Joy for the offspring, hope of which I nurse 
For my throne's heritage, our love's glad contract 
This day shall ratify before the world, 
And thou, whose worth needs not the gilt of rank, 
Shalt by thy country, even for that worth. 
Be dower'd with those distinctions which alone 
The world will value. Thy true crown is here. 

\]iis hand on his breast. 
Bian. There will I strive to wear it. Eut, my lord. 
We who live in the world, and for the world 
Live chiefly, must our living even so rule 
That the world shall not say we live not well. 
That Ave do right, should satisfy ourselves. 
And may, wo hope, the Almighty ; but, for men. 
One thing is needed more, — that, doing right, 
We seem to do so. " When Your Highness' brother, 
The Cardinal Ferdinand, found me at your side 



ACT ir. sc. 3. 291 

In your sick hour, not knowing we were wed, 

His wrath was rous'd. Even so the hard-judging 

world, 
Untaught, had frown'd on my best act of duty ; 
And 3'our own love, that should have rais'd its object, 
While blessing, would have robb'd her of her fame. 
But for this cause, believe me, dear my lord, 
Bianca had Ijccn happy unacknowledg'd, 
Blest in thy love, content to be thy spouse. 
^^ Twice happy am I now my fatherland, 
Not for my merits, but to honor thee, 
Hath given me, for the thousand gifts I owe 
Thy matchless love, to make some sm.all return, 
Lifting mo to thy side more like thy mate. 
Thou shalt not find me derogate. Was I aught 
As humble Bonaventuri's Avife, I shall 
Be ten times more, high-plac'd as Francis' spouse, 
Endeavoring so to live, as not to shame 
Thy crown, nor that which Venice this day gives. 

G. D. But worthier in thyself, than didst thou wear 
A crown imperial. Come ; the hour is nigh 
Shall tell the Avorld, not me, what thou descrv'st. 
Sweet, let us to the robing-room. 

Bii/n. Yet first 
I have a grace to sue. Wilt grant it, love ? 

G. D. What canst thou ask, that Francis will not grant? 

Bum. Virginia's mother, twelve long years eonfin'd 
In a dull cloister: set her free, my lord, 
And make Virginia happy, and herself. 



292 BIAXCA CAPELLO 



G. D. Ivno-sA'cst thou Avliat this mother was ? In league 
With Ferdinand, using aye in his belioof 
The power o'er Cosmo's doting heart she never 
Once turn'd to good account, fomenter still 
Of discord 'twixt us brothers, and betwixt 
Our sire and us, now let her out thou add'st 
Another to thy secret foes and mine. 
But I have never yet deny'd thee aught. 
I will not now, this happy hour. — Virginia I 
That day thy hand is given, as thy heart, 
To the young lord of Estc, shall thy mother 
Kevisit the gay world. Let her beware 
So to employ her freedom, that the gift 
Be not rcvok'd. Nay, kneel not unto mc; 
Kiss the Grand Duchess' hand. And bid thy mother 
Remember it is she unbars the door, 
Not Ferdinand. — 
As Virginia attempts to hieel to Bianca, and h'ss 

her hand, Bianca draws her to her hosom, and Jcisses her on 
the forehead. 
Ah, gentle love ! — Now come. 

Exeunt Omncs : the G. D. and Bianca hading ; 

"behind tlieni the Patriakcii and Capkllo; hcJrind these 

Virginia and Vittokio ; then Pellegrina and Bentivoglio; 

andfuudli/ Sennuccio and Signora Malocuore. 



ACT IV, sc. 4. 293 

Scene IV. 

A calinet in the Cardinal ch' Medici's paJace at Rome. 

The Cardikal, ivaVdmj to and fro with signs of 
discomposure. Malocuore, standing. 

* 

Card. Go on. 

Mai. I fear your Eminence will lose 
Your patience. 

Card. Patience? Hast tliou liv'd so long 
To wear a beard, and know'st not, what affects 
The heart Avith sudden sorrow, or Avounds self-love, 
Falls with as passionate impulse on the sense 
As news that flatters vanity ? Ey how much 
Hate is of more vitality than love, 
By so much lend I noAV the readier ear 
In that thy theme offends me. On! goon! 
Mai. When the Ambassador, Count I^Iario Sforza 

Of Santa Flora 

Card. Spare me. Kced'st thou specify 
His titles ? Add then, Francis-Mary's minion, 

And the Venet his Venice woman's tool. 

^al. — Brought back the State's diploma of paternity, 
My lord despatch'd the Prince, Don Giovannino, 
To thank the Senate. 

Card. A boy but twelve years old! 



294 BI.VKCA CAPELLO 

Apt messenger for sucli iiuwortliy errand ! 

Mai. Then, 
Two of lier foremost sen;itors were sent 
By Venice, Tiepolo and Micliieli, 
To invest her daughter with the parent's rights. 
With these ambassadors came ninety nobles, 
Both of the seVgirt city and tlic main ; 
Sucli a proud ti;pop as never the Republic 
Even in her palmiest fortune sent before. 
What but like pomp should answer it? The Court, 
The Cabinet, all Florence boasts of great 
Or noble, throng'd to meet the imposing train ; 
Whereof, not least conspicuous for glad zeal. 
Shone out my lord, the Prince, Don Pietro. 

Card, [stopping in his ivaVc.l Ah! 
Say'st thou ? 'T is most likely. 
In an under hut hitter tone, and re- 
suming his ivalk.] Renegade ! 
Mai. All the Capello's house and kin were there, 
From the Grand Duchess' sire and uncle down 
To the last gentleman that boasts their blood. 
You had thought them monarchs, conquerors at the 

least. 
Thunder'd the cannon, and the bells rung out 
From every tower, as the Sovereign's guests 
Entcr'd the Sovereign's Palace. 

Card. Who? 

Ifal. The House 
And kin of Senator Capcllo. 



ACT IV. sc. 4.. 295 

Card. All? 
Mai. To the last gentleman that boasts his blood. 
Card. What ! Not enough to house the sire and brother? 

Must the herd batten where my father fed ? 
Hal. The sire goes back : but not the brother ; -who gets 
A pension his male issue Avill inherit, — 
His daughter to be dower'd. 

Card. Holy Paul 1 
This passes all endurance. What I rriust I, 
His father's son, be scanted and put off 
In my emergence, that a foreign vermin 
May pierce the fisc at will ? — What more ? 

Mai 'T is said, 
The expenses of the marriage, reckoning all. 
From the first mission to the eroAvning-rite, v 
Will make three hundred thousand ducats told. 
Ca7'd. That while a dearth is pressing sore the land, 
And his born subjects pine for simple bread ! 
Lord, how long shall the crown'd sons of pride 
Abuse their loan'd prerogatives, and make 
The sad earth doubt Thy justice ? 

Mai. And for one 
Not meriting such fortune. 

Card, [roughli/.] Who is that? 

By Heaven, thou ! 

Correcting himself.] Thou mistak'st me much. I meant 
Not to impute the fault to her. 

3Ial. [insinuatingly. 1 I thought 
Tour Eminence had hated the Grand Duchess. 



296 BIANCA CAPELLO 



Card. Should that prevent my knowledge of her due ? 
Her natural gifts of To the tale. Proceed. 

Mai. -° The Ambassadors express'd the Senate's joy, 
That the two cities, henceforth close affin'd 

Card. Pass all that, ■ — ■ as in time it all will pass. 

Mai. And giving to the daughter of the State, 
In the paternal name, a most rare jewel 

Card. And that. Come to the crowning act. 

Mai The crown ? 

Card. Conferr'd this day, I think, 

J/a7, About this hour. 
In the Great Hall, most lavishly adorn'd, 
Before the Eight and Forty of the Senate, 
The Grand Duke, on his throne, receives the Duchess, 
Wko enters royally array'd, led in 
Py the Ambassadors, the whole gorgeous train 
Of Venice nobles following. She takes 
Her seat beside him. The diploma redd, 
And ratify'd, of the conceded honors. 
The diadem is set on her fair brow, 
The nuptial ring is interchang'd anew, 
And, w^earing. still the crown, the titular Queen, 
Her lord beside her, marches to the Church, 

The heroine of a triumph 

Card, [musingly^ and resuming his ivalTc. 
'T is too late 
Now to regret. I should have lik'd to see it. 

MaJ. Ay, it will prove a rare burlesque. 

Card. Burlesque 1 



ACT IV. !^C. 4. 297 

What mcan'st thou ? She will well become the crown — 
I mean in beauty and in gentle pndc. 

Musiiiyli/. 
Mctliinks I see her now ; her gliding step, 
Which scarce was motion, settled to a pace 
or quiet majesty ; her radiant smile, 
So proud yet sweet withal, though beaming still, 

Yet less diffusive in its light; her eyes 

Ah, there the ethereal fire, which Earth subdues 
"Willi itii most tender passions I that soft flame 
AVliich might couvince an infidel, for there 
The Soul and Heaven give out immortal signs 

During Uiis ^polccn meditation, the CvRDiXAii 

Jias turned liis back on Ma[,ocl'okk. Xoiv starting^ as if 

recu!Iecii)if/ It imselfjie faces suddenli/ (d)out and sees 

Maloccokk watching him intentlu, ivho at once 

droits his eyes ; and the Cardinal resumes. 

Thou seem'st to think it strange I can admire 

What all men must admire. 'T is not to love. 

Besides this lady still has been for me 

Most amiable and wooing. 

M(d. T have thought 

But pardon mc, j^our Grace. I did Ibrget. 
C((rd. What wonldst thou say? I pardon no reserve. 

]\/((l. Yet, my lord's station, and our Holy Church 

Card. Is 't that ? Were not the Apostles flesh and blood? 

Thou 'dst speak, I see, of me and of Bianca. 



298 BIAXCA CAPELLO 



Wliat hast tlion seen ? Speak out ! Thou hast thought 
— thou saii'.st — 

Mai. I liavc thouglit at times, my lord, your brother's spouse 
Measur'd your fair proportions with an eye 
01' capable relish. The Grand Dul-ce is comely; 
But my loid Cardinal's youth and hner features 

Curd. Thou art a serpent. Tliink'st thou I am Adam? 
I hanker not for the Forbidden Fruit. 
Dreani'st thou I do ? 

Mai. i\Iy lord Avould not, I sec, 
Admit me to his confidence. 

Card. Because 
I have no secret. The Venetian is 
!My brother's spouse. That he lias made this choice 
Displeases me, because it wrongs our House, 
And mars its inlluence Avith foreign Courts. 
Therefore I view her with such evil will 
As may beseem a Cliiistian and a prince 
Of Holy Churcli. I do admire Iier too, — 
Esteem her worthy even of a crown, 
Were that not Avliat it is. But love her! — I 
I'orgive thee, Malocuore. We will talk 
Further anon. [Exit Muhcuor. 

The CardIxVal lool'n after liim a, moment icith an expression 
offrinmj'h and dindain. 

Make thee iny confidant! — 
1 will, 60 far as suits me; not so far 



ACT IV. sc. 4. 299 

As make thee, dog ! my master. No, let fools 
Unlock tlieir hearts to knaves. The key to mine 
Lies only in my keeping, and shall ever. — 
And to betray a love I shame to own 
Even to myself! Not that Bianca is 
My brother's spouse. " My father lov'd my sister : 
And his last wife methinks was fond of me. 
And but I was too young, perhaps in turn 
I had lov'd her too. I put her though to use. 
She was my reservoir ; I drew from her 
The gold Francesco could not, and for which 
He hated me. But I should shame to own 
I love his Favorite's widow, Avhen for like love 
I scorn him, as I hate him doubly too, 
If aught indeed can double hate like mine. 
"' And her too I shall use — if not for pleasure, 
For profit. What imply those words that came, 
Wrapp'd with the picture I had pray'd to have? 
Talies, from a drawer of an open, 
writing-table^ a miniature^ incased, and a 
letter. Opening the latter he appears to read 
in if. Then: 

" She cannot live without me ? [pause. 

— Lives in me ? [pauses. 
Is it the simple passion of her nature 
Lends her these phrases; for her way is loving 

And tender unto all ; or ? We shall see. 

This coronation over Would the crown 



SOO BIAXCA CAPELLO 



"Were fire to burn her temples, though I Avould 
So gladly feel them beat against my heart! 
This over, she shall see me at her wish, [pause. 
'No, it were better first to write. I will — 
Will test her kindness. She shall use her hold 
On my weak brother's heart to unlock his treasure. 
I need fresh means. His hand, which never shuts 
When a show 's promis'd or an artist sues, 
Closes, perhq^s instinctively, to me, 
As if he felt his gold would prop the lever 
That shakes his throne. Ah I when that throne shall 

crumble 
To pieces at my touch, to be rebuilt 
For a more resolute ruler; when the wrong 
Which nature did me when she made him first, 
Though I was meant for government ^— As yet 
See I but darkly Avhat my soul bids do 
To rectify this wrong ; but what I do 
Shall be so done 't will not need doing over. 

When I throw off this purple which I hate 

But where wilt then tliou be ? [gazing on the miniature. 

Or being, u'ltat. 
What wilt thou then be? — Mine thou shalt be, 

or! 

I hate thee as I love thee [/i'iss('H^^)«ssjo)!a/e7y f/ie^'^rtss.]: 

't seemeth now. 
As I gaze on that proud, yet winning smile, 
Which woos yet mocks me, seems it to me now, 
As I could kiss and choke thee at one breath. 



ACT lY. SC. 5. SOI 

Accurs'd enchantress ! Such my tools have made 
The credulous crowd beheve thee. And thou art I 
Thou art ! But thy enchantments arc all here. 

Gazing on the miniafure a moment^ he 

closes the casej and ivalks up to the writipg-fablej to replace itj 

and Scene closes. 



SCEXE V. 

Florence. The Great Hall in the Pitti Palace. 

The Grand Duke, wearing the grand-ducal crown 
and roheSj and seated on his throne^ surrounded by iJie Senate 

of Forty-eight, and the Magistrates in a semicircle on 
either side. Within the crescent^ on his right, Don Pietro, the 

Duke of Beacciano, Don C^sar d' Este, Arcii- 
Bisnop of Pisa, Abbioso, d-c. On the left Donna Virginia, 

Pkllegrina, Signora Malocuore and other ladies. 



302 BIANCA CAPELLO 



Tlie Ilall, magnificently draped^ is liung luitJi banners, tfec, 

and the whole Court is in sumptuouslij festal and 

solemn array. 

On either side a line of soldiery extending up to the 

throne, icitli banners of arms, dx., among 

which those of Venice are 

conspicuous. 

A grand hurst of music, 
and Enter 
in royal rohi's, her train home up by two Pages, Bianca 

conducted by the two Venetian Ambassadors, 

and followed immdlately by Bartholomew Capello and the 

PATRiARcn, and en suite by Vittorio. and a long train 

of Venetian nobles gorgeously appareled. 

G. D. [descending the slips before his throne. 

Our well-belov'd, right voyal Duchess ! Sit 
Bodily at our hand, who in our heart 
In spirit art ever thron'd. [Places her on the throne and 

sits besida her. 
Eever'd Capello ! 
Our lady's noble Hither ; thou, grave Patriarch, 
Her honor'd uncle and ours ; be seated near. 

[They take their places on his right. 
Our sometime Auditor, most Ecvcrend Sire 
In God, Archbishop Antony of Pisa, 
Read tlic diploma of St. Mark's adoption. 
For which cause sit we here. 



ACT IV. SC. 5. 303 

Archb. [reading. 

In the liigli name 
•Of the august Repubhc, we the Doge 
And joint Pregadi. wishing to attest 
Our deep sense of the many and rare virtues 
Which render worthy of the highest fortune 
Blanche, daughter of the Senator Capello, 
Whom the Great Duke of Tuscany has wed, 
And to do honor to the Great Duke's self, 
Adopt her as the daughter of the State, 
Conceding unto her the rank and title 
Of Queen of Cyprus, with all high prerogatives 
And honors which to the adoptive parent 
Of right belong. 

G. D. Speak ye, the Ambassadors 
Of Venice, Excellent Signori Tiepolo 
And Michieli, is that your Senate's voice ? 

Tiep. It is. 

Mich. We ratify it, and pronounce 
By virtue of our Avarrant, in the name 
Of Holy Mark, the Lady Blanche Capello 
True and legitimate Child of the Republic. 

Tiej). In whose high name we place this royal crown 
On her liiir brows. 

The Ambassadors croivn her, — Bianca 
advancing and standing vp. 

Both. \ Long live the Queen Bianca ! 



304 BIAISrCA CArELLO 



Venetian / 
Nobles. 



> Live Queen Bianca ! 



The Guards, presenting arms, and their stand- 
ard-hearers ivaving all the banners, join in the 
cry. A burst of music. 

Patriarch. 'T is the Senate's wisli 
Of Venice, and the Great Duke lends consent, 
Tlie high espousals solemniz'd before 
Between His Highness and the Lady Blanche, 
Born daughter of Bartholomew Capello, 
Should by His Highness this day be renew' d 
With the Queen, daughter of St. Mark. Advance^ 
Ambassadors, and give aAvay the bride. 

The Nuptial ring is exchanged 

in the customary form, and the Patriarch, spreading 

his hands over the pair, appears to repeat the 

prayers and benediction. Then aloud: 

Heaven on these nuptials shower perennial joy; 
And give the fair engrafted plant to glad 
With long fecundity the sovereign stock ; 
So after ages, happy in its shade. 
May bless, as I do now, the parent seed ! 
O. D. Now to the Church, to offer thanks to God. 
And meetly close this high auspicious day. 



ACT IV. SC. 5. 305 

The Characters and other persons 

form in procession^ ivhich passes down and from the scene 

in the following order : 

PateIx\.rch of Aquileia aiid AncnBisnop of Pisa. 

BiANCA, with the crown on her head, led hijthc Grand Duke, 

and having her train loriie up hy the Signora Malocuor 
and another Lady of the Court, — the Or. DuTce's train 

home I'll two Pages. Then Don Pietro, iciih Bar- 

TnoLOMEW Capello; Donna Virginia rvitli Don Cesar 

d' Este ; the Duke of Bracciano ivith Vittorio ; Pel- 

legrina icitli Bentivoglio ; Sennuccio 

and Abbioso ; Senate. 

Then the train of Venetian Nobles ; then the Inferior 

Magistrates; andfincdly the Guard, ichich have 

presented arms as the procession passes between 

the lines. Music playing throxighout, until 

the Drop feills. 



306 BIANCA CAPELLO 



Act the Fifth 

Scene I. A room in the Grand Duchess's Apartment, 

BiANCA. Cardinal. 

Card. Nay, it is so. Your modesty disoAvns 

Your kindness' due. I know my brother's hccart : 
One may wring aught from it but gold. 

Bian. My lord, 
You do him Avrong. A freer hand or heart 
Can boast no monarch : few so free. 

Card. Well, well ; 
I will not argue — not with you. Once more, 
A thousand thanks. I would I could believe 
I ow'd your kindness to a dearer feeling. 

Bian. Than what, my lord ? 

Card. Than that which you profess. 
Oft in your letters you have call'd me dear; 
And when you bade me hasten from dead Rome 
To give new life to Florence and to you, 
It was with such a magic of sweet words 
As lent even to your picture sweeter charms. 
May I believe them real ? 

Biaji. My poor words? 
yes ! Indeed, save dear Virginia only, 



ACT V. SC. 1, 307 

Who of my lord's near blood can be to me 

That which your Highness' talents, winning Avay, 

And suavity of speech have render'd you ? 

Card. And is that all ? Alas ! your pictur'd lips 
Give back no colder answer. 

Bian. Does your Grace 
Then question them ? When, at your prayer, I sent 
My poor resemblance, pleas'd to think you held 
In some regard your brother's wife, I sent 
Truly my heart with it. Did j^our Grace in turn 
Give truly yours ? 

Card. So truly, and so wholly, 
I come to seek it. Give me back my own. 
Or satisfy the sweet yet painful void 
That leaves my breast no respite. 

Bicni. My lord Cardinal ! 

This language in a Churchman 

Card. Seems it strange ? 
Has not a Churchman senses ? Are they proof 
To that delicious sickness whose contagion 
Seizes the spirits of all other men ? 

Bian. My lord! my lord! Either yourself are mad, 
Or you think me so. If you not remember 
What 3'our position calls for, at the least 
Forget not what belongs to mine. \_Turns to go. 

Card. Yet stay I 
Beauteous Bianca ! hear me yet one word. 

Bian. My lord, a thousand — in aiiother tone, 
And of another import. 



308 BIANCA CAPELLO 



Card. 'T is to say, 
You disavow the affection you have own'd, 
And bid me to forget what I have learn'd. 

Bian. It is to say, I bid your Grace remember 
I proffer' d but a sisterly regard; 
Which still is yours, if you will take it fairly ; 
But, to pervert it to a guilty thought. 
Is to charge me with folly, and yourself. 

Card. Why guilty ? You have said, my speech and ways 
Won from you liking. Was 't in nature then, 
I should not yield the body of my soul 
Captive to beauty, wit, and grace like thine ? 
That magic which entrances all the world 
That come within its circle, which has Avrapt " 
My eldest brother for so many years 
In such infatuate passion that fools say 
Thou usest philters, shall it have no spell 
For a more sympathetic spirit like mine ? 
Yes ! fairest of all 

Bian. \_wlio lias looked steadily onhim, tliroughoutliis appeal, 
ivith a scorn graduaUy increasing. 
Must I understand 
By tliis, your Eminence would make love to me ? 

Card. Ah, look not thus ! though even scorn shoAVS beau- 
tiful 
In that angelic face. Saints look not down 
On their poor worsliipcrs with gleaming eyes: 
And I am such ; I love not, but adore. 
Thou art a Gorgon now; but not the terror 



ACT V. SC. 1. 309 

Of those liauglat looks can frown me into stone ; 
For my blood boils with passion. 

Binmca moves to touch a hand-bell.] Yet fear not I 
Ring not ! I have but words : words which shall out, 
Though, could I now go back, I would not breathe 

them. 
Bianca, I adore thee ; with a passion 
Which makes the love of even my brother tame. 
I am more young than he, my heart less worn. 
Look on me, and compare us. Is he comelier ? 

Has he ? 

Bian. My lord, is this mere gallantry ? 
Or comes it truly from your inmost soul ? 
{Jard. From the hot heart of my impassion'd spirit. 
I swear it by my habit, by the Church, 
By the high God in Heaven, and what for me 
Has all of Heaven in one thought — thyself! 

I love thee with a passion ! 

Bian. Hear me then. 
Were I so meanly, loathsomely ingrate. 
As to forget all good I owe my lord ; 
Could I be, what as yet I ne'er have been. 
So intemperiite of blood as at one time 
To love two men ; could I so far forget 
My duty unto Grod and unto man, 
As, with a double adultery, to yield 
My body to my lord's own brother ; still, 
Still would I shrink, as from the touch of plague, 
From taint by such a traitor — traitor, ay ! ^' 



310 BIANCA CAPELLO 



Traitoi' unto thy Grocl, tliy Church, thy brother I 
The hooded snake, which bites even unassail'd. 
Shall be as welcome to my breast as thou ! 
She takes up the hell ] but at the moment 

Miter Virginia. 

my Virginia ! thou art come in time. 

Card, [who at first springs towards Bianca, as though he 
vjould strangle her, turning about, and with clenched 
hands, mutters : 
Death I 'I should sink to this ! ^^ [Exit. 

Virg. What troubles thee, 
Sweet sister ? Thine eyes blaze, albeit thy cheek 
Is fearful-pale. 

Bian. The Cardinal and I 
Have had high words. I do repent me much 

1 strove to reconcile my lord and him. 
But thou look'st sad too. Is it all for me ? 

Virg. Alas! My mother! They have taken lier back 
To her old cloister. Dare I pray once more 
Thy influence with my lord and brother ? 

Bian. I fear 
'T will be in vain. Yet, for thy gentle sake, 
I will essay. And happily now comes 
The Duke. Thou wilt not go ? 

Virg. 'T is best. 
What could my tears with him, if thy prayer fail ? 

{Exit. 



ACT V. SO. 1, 311 



Enter Grand Duke. 



G. D. Virginia? Flies she me '? Thy darling friend 
Should feel her presence here is joy to me. 

Bian. She had a grace to ask, and, dear my lord, 
Would trust my pleading rather than her own. 

G. D. Knowing I could refuse thee nothing, ha? 

Bian. My lord is ever gracious ; but this quest 
I fear will try him. 'T is her mother's cause. 

G. D. Pray, do not plead for her. I have no heart 

To say thee nay. But now Dost thou remember, 

I gave Virginia warning that her mother 

Must not abuse her freedom? Yet her home 

Was made the haunt of traitors, who paid court 

And oCfer'd mock condolence to the Avidow, 

That they might shame their Sovereign, teacliing men 

To call me tyrant and set her in honor 

Above my OAvn thron'd Duchess. Chief of these 

Were my born brothers; and of these the chief 

Was Ferdinand. Thou changest hue ! I mark'd, 

On coming in, thy forehead was o'erclouded, 

And tliy pal'd cheeks show'd traces of a storm. 

What has befallen ? 

Bian. What never must again. 
I have borne, my lord, from the o'erwecning prelate. 
What makes me sorry you are not still foes. 

G. D. Ha! Has the ungrateful traitor dar'd renew 
His old despite ? 

Bian. It were not wise, my lord. 



312 BIA>rCA CAPELLO 



Even were it noble, to accuse the absent ; 
Nor, sj^eaking to my sovereign and my spouse, 
Can I forget tlie reverence dpe his blood ; 
But this in brief — and it is much to say : 
The Cardinal-Prince in me sees but the widow 
Of Bonaventuri, in himself the son 
Of Cosmo. 

0. D. The old devil of his nature ; 
A rampant arrogance that gets the better 
Even of his practis'd craft. It shall be tam'd. 
His visit over, let this ill-starr'd union 
Be never more renew'd. He but abuses 
My trust, as thy sweet nature. Florence is full 
Of plots and treason of his foul engendering, 
Hatch'd into life and foster'd by the means 
I lent him at thy instance. Malocuor 
Begins to give me doubts ; and Pietro falls 
Visibly once more in the traitorous mesh. 
Hast thou not mark'd this? 

Bian. No, my lord : till now 
I doubted not the Cardinal was restor'd 
To godlier feelings. 

G. D. Such he never knew. 
And Pietro is the fool of his own passions. 
Which Ferdinand plays with, with a master hand, 
For his ambitious aims. — Yet be to both, 
Until the banquet and the hunt are over 
Which end this luckless visit, gracious still. 
Bian. Still, as befits me ever to our guests 



ACT V. gc. 1. 313 

And to thy brothers. But to seem again 
That Avhich I was, when, deeming I had won 
His heart in turn, I held the Cardinal dear, 
That can I not. 

G. D. And that I Avould not have. 
Be, as Heaven made thee, open as the day. 
And leave to those, whose thoughts bear not the light, 
To mask their visages. — But I am come. 
Not to condole with thee, nor yet to praise thee, 
But have thy sentence on the gem they are adding 
To our art-treasures, for whose wasteless wealth, 
Thus gather'd, coming time shall laud my name. 

Bian. The new-found statue ? 

O. D. 'T is now clean'd, and shows 
A prodigy of beauty, scarcely flaw'd. 
How Benvenuto's eyes had glisten'd over 
Its grand yet fine proportions ! — Come, love, come I 

Bian. my dear lord, I should but mar your pleasure. 
Hold me excus'd. A weight is on my soul 
I cannot lift; a presage of dire evil. 
The shape I see not, but the thing is there. 

O. D. It is a shade then. Wears it Ferdinand's hat? 

Bian. [gravely. 

I have said Avhat Ferdinand never will forgive. 

O. D. And thus that gentle heart is made uneasy, 

[folding his arms about her. 
Sorrowing for wounds it has made another bear, 
Albeit in self-defence. 

Bian. That is not all. 



314 BIANC.V CAPELLO 



The CanliuiiVs face was black with gallicr'd hale. 
O. D. He is a serpent. Fear not therefore thou. 
The cygnet is beneath the parent's Aving. 

[pressing her closer. 
Can the snake reach it ? Fie, thou timid swan ! 
Summon thy ladies, and be with mc straiglit. 

Kisses her hamJ, and Exit. 

Dian. Eut with a heart thy dear love cannot hghten. 
Would it were morrow and the Cardinal gone ! 

Moving to the tahle^ lifts the hand-lelJj as to ring it; 

and Scene changes to 



ACl' V. SC. 2. 015 



Scene II. 

A room in Malocuore's house. 

Malocuor 

xoaVdng slowly, with dn air of deep meditation, 

his hand on his chin. 

Enter 
SiGN'ORA Malocuore — her face radiant ivitJi triumph. 

Sign. What wilt thou give me for the nc-\vs I bring ? 
Mai. [fjazinrj at her for a moment sharply. 

'T is something fatal ; something Thou slialt have 

A carcanet of diamonds, bring'st thou such 

As shall destroy the Duchess, and perhaps 

[checldng himself. 
I will not tell thee that. 

Sifjn. Perchance I know. 
Thou plottest for the ruin — it may be 

The murder of thy lord, to place the Card ■ 

Mai. [/?i alarm and threateningly. 

Wilt hold thy wicked tongue ? How know'st thou ? 

Walls 
Thick as our own have cars. 

Sign. That know I well : 



316 BIANCA CAPELLO 



Our mistress's for instance. 

Mai. Ha ! — Speak out. 

But whisper. 'T is ? * 

Sign, [pausing — then slowly. 
The Cardinal loves Bianca. 
2£al. [iieevislihj. 

That is old news for mc. 

Sign. But not so old, 

The Cardinal has avow'd ms passion, and been 

MaJ. \eagerlij interrupting. 

Say but rejected, thou hast made us both. 
■Sign. Eejected ; with such virulence of scorn, 

But that I heard, I had not thought her mouth 
Could breathe such accents. 

Mai. [rajjturousli/.] This is Heaven I 

Sign. Hell rather. 
Mai. Ay, Hell for them ; but a brave Heaven to me. 
Two sloiu taps heard at the door. 
Go now ; there comes, and in the nick of time, 
One I must deal with. 

Sign, [going^ Have a care ! 

Mai. Be sure. \_Exit Sign, 
by another door. 

Now, no more doubt! [exultingly.] 'T is ripe ! 

Come in. 
Miter 
hy the first door, Masxadiere. 

Masnad. Your Excellence has order'd 



ACT V. SC. 2. 317 

Mai. [bringing him forward. 
Come this way. 
And speak more low. — Thou hast a nunble tongue 
As well as poniard. Knowest thou a man 
Thy mate therein ? 

Masnad. Your Excellence, I do. 

Mai. Canst thou malign a person of high rank 
Even in his very teeth ? and foil his thrusts, 
If he push questions home ? » 

Masnad. I have foil'd home-thrusts 
Of sharper stuff than words, and done more hurt 
To persons of high rank than with my tongue. 

MaJ. Know'st thou the tavern of the Grolden Lilies ? 

Betake thee thither then Soft ! I must see 

This mate of thine. Go, bring him hither straight. 
But not that way. I'll show thee now a room, 
Where I can teach you two and not a soul 
Know of the lesson. There a secret stair 
Leads to a little garden-gate, whereby 
Thou 'It bring thy fellow. Follow. Softly ! So. 

Leads off, on tiptoe, and with finger on lip, 

Masnadiere hy a small door to the 

further part of the scene. 



318 BIAJ^CA CAPELLO 



Scene III. 

A room in the CardlnaVs Apartment at the Pitli. 

Cardinal. Dox Pietro. 

Don P. I know not that. If, the last time, 't was feign'd, 
Why feign'd she not the birth too ? Why resort 
To visceral pangs, at peril of her life, 
To end a pregnancy, which, if 't were shamm'd, 
She would have clos'd by simulated travail 
And a supposititious offspring. 

Card. Why? 
Because she knew I had set a watch on her. 

Don P. If she knew that, she could have chang'd her 
creatures, 
And so avoided it, did she deceive. 
'T were harder for her to o'erreach in this 
Her lord than thee. Now, by the gods! I think 
'T was poison given her to prevent a birth. 

Card. Thou dost not hint I gave it ? 

Don P. Faith ! our sire 
Was thought a subtle poison-mixer : Strozzi, 
Who had tried the like on him, had cause to dread him. 



ACT V. SC. 3. 319 

Thou hast, I know, his art. Say, thou dost use it; 

* 

That is thine own affair. 

Card. Art thou gone mad ? 
Dost thou forget my habit and my place ? 

Don P. No, I remember priests may do for God 
What laics do for Satan. How much more 
A prince of Holy Church ! 

Card. A scurril jest ; 
Which I might take for earnest, were 't my will. 
But for thy sake, my brother, I can bear. 
With the Lord's grace, even that. 

Don P. [scornfully.'] For mine ? 

Card. Thine only. 

Don P. Hark ! I 'm thy junior, Ferdinand ; but no babe^ 
To bite on coral. 

Card. And I hold thee none. 
Let the witch foist on her besotted lord 
Some peasant or strumpet's bantling, Avho shall climb 
Our father's throne, what is my loss ? Hurt pride. 
The purple bars me from succession; but thou, 
Wounded in honor, art shut out from the croAvn, 
Which is thy natural right, failing Francis' heirs. 
More, thou art wrong'd in the present : our sire's wealth 
Must make the nest warm for the cuckoo's brood. 
What ! Thou art touch'd at last ? Why so ! why so t 
'T was well reminded. Wilt thou not awake ? 
Promise me thou wilt marry, dear Pietro I 
'T is the sole hope for Florence and for me, 



320 BIAXCA CAPELLO 



Who count our House's honor next to God's. 
Don P. Why press that point? 'T is time Avhen I succeed. 
Card. And shouldst thou die? What hope then for our 
House? 
Shall this pernicious harlot's piu'chas'd seed 
Mount to my father's heritage ? Perish rather 
She and her prematurely dotard spouse 
By one quick blow together ! 

Don P. Saj^est thou, brother ? 
How happens it that thou, Avho wast but now 
In amity with the Duchess, art fallen out ? 
■dard. Because but now she has wrong'd me Avitli sharp 
insult, 
As lately thee. Tliou lov'st her not ? 

Don P. Why no. 
She might have had my Spaniard at the Court. '^ 
But that the girl was not made welcome, is that 
A cause to foul her Highness with gross names ? 
Troth ! I believe I honor her in heart 
The more she did not. 

Card. So not 1 1 It was 
The rankest hypocrisy. The harlot soul 
Loves most the form of chastity. Out upon 
These whited sepulchres ! The flowers that prank 
Their outward wall draAV beauty from corruption, 
And lade the churchyard air with scents that bring 
To wise minds thoughts of rottenness. 

Don P. My mind 



ACT Y. SC. 3. 321 

Is dull then as my eyes. I see but beauty 
And smell but sweetness in Bianca. Yet, 
God Avot, I love her not. 

Card. Well. To the point. 
I have certain cause to think the fresh maternity 
Our Duchess threatens is but assum'd. Wilt thou 
Be diligent as I to thwart her aims ? 

Don. P. Why 3-e.s, so for. 

Card. 'T is for thy good, not mine. 
The honor of our House, there, there alone, 
I vie with thee in interest. We will talk 
Further of this. Meantime, spread thou by stealth. 
But largely, Avhat I have told thee. Thou maysfc 

safely. 
Think of our father's throne, and of his wealth 
Squander'd on bastards. With that spur, devise ; 
And make her fame as odious as thou canst. 

Do7i P. I will think on 't ; but, 'sooth ! I like it not. 
'T were manlier far to poison her outright. 

[Exit Von P. 

Card. And would she Avere ! to save thy brains the pain, 
Thou shallow libertine ! — and me perhaps 
The odium of the deed. — I could not prick 
Thy honor to the leap; I touch'd thy purse. 
Well — there thou art not far wrong. — But who 

had thought 
I could so blind thee ! Thou succeed ! Thfj heirs ! 
The purple bar my natural rights! A word, 



322 BIAXCA CAPELLO 



The Pope gives dispensation ; '* and my vows 
And liabit alike are cobwebs. They shall mesh 
Thee as some bigger flics. Then break thou through, 
If thou have poAver ! 

Enter Malocuore. 

Ha, Malocuor ! — Come forward. — 
Why art thou dull? Why, man! the sun looks bright 
That dawns upon our fortune. Saidst thou not 
The people famine-stricken were astir, 
Eous'd by the Duke's exactions ? that the nobles, 
Fir'd by the sequestration of the goods 
Of the conspiring twenty of their order, 
Are disaffected ? ( little do they think 
'T was of my prompting ! ) and Camilla's lot 
Is made to appear a grievous wrong ? Hear now : — 
The Queen of France has charg'd — thou know'stwell 

why — 
Troilo Orsini's murder on thy master, 
Who is as innocent of his death as thou. 
St. Mark's portentous star is on the Avane. 
Thou shak'st the head ! Why, Avhat is this ? 

Mai. My lord — 

Could I dare speak 

Card. Thou maj^st say what thou Avilt. 
Hast thou not heard I pardon no reserve ? 
Mai. A strange report is running through the town, 



ACT V. SC. 3, 323 

The Cardinal-Prince — forgive, your Grace ! — made 
love 

Openly to liis brother's spouse, and was 

Gard. 'T is false as Hell ! a devilish juggling lie ! 
But Avliat if it were true ? Say on. 

Mai. And was 

Instantly and with scorn rejected. 

Card. Death! 
Where gott'st thou that ? Where ? Quickly ! Stam- 
mer not ! 

Or! 

Mai. Everywhere and anywhere. Aloud 
In the open marketplaces, in the taverns, 
'T is told with laughter. Men exalt the Duchess 
As a Penelope, and deride your Grace. 
Card. Villain ! thou liest ! 

Mai. Give me then to death. 

But if I do not? 

Card. Then shall die the inventor. 
Mai. That is the Duchess' self. She told her ladies ; 

And, ere you might count ten, 

Card. 0, that her neck 
Were 'twixt these fingers ! — But I '11 not believe it! 
Thou art impos'd on — or iraposest. I will 
Ila^-e instant proofs ! Dost hear me? instant proofs! 
Proofs, dost thou hear me ! proofs, I say ! 

Akd. And shall. 
Card. But on the instant! I will have no stop. 



324 BIANCA CAPELLO 



Mai. Will your Grace venture then to come with me ? 
Card. To bring the source of that infernal slander 

Home to that — woman ? "Whither not ? To Hell, 
Must I there seek it. 

Mai. Could your Glrace procure 
A close disguise. 

Card. At once. 

Mai. [turning to go. 
I will be back 
Similarly metamorphos'd — 

Card. In five minutes. 
Go. I will have this proof, or — 'ware thy soul ! 

[Exit. 

Ma"LOCUOR, loolcing after him with a sinister smile, 

raises Ms hand exultingly, and Exit hy the 

door where he had entered. 



ACT V. sc. 4. 325 



Scene IV. 

A large puhltc room in the Tavern of the Golden Lilies. Va- 
rious groups of common onen, artisans, etc., with soldiers 
intermixed, drinlcing at separate tables. At a table in the 
foreground, standing by itself 

Masnadiere and Scherano. 

JScher. Who is this man of rank he is to bring ? 

Mas7iad. I know not, I ; and care as httle. Most lilve, 
The Cardinal's self. 

Scher. That is a daring thought. 
How should it stead him, what we have to say ? 

Masnad. Much, an' thou weigh'st the matter. Was 't not 
thou, 
With Malandrino and myself, wast sent, 
To stir the people, when our Lady's brother, 
Vittorio, had displac'd the favorite lords, 
Pandolfo of the Bardi, Mario Sforza, 
And Jacopo Salviati, the Duke's cousin ? 
Holp we not make the imposts too weigh heavier 
In popular estimation by our talk ? 
Was thy purse empty, when the city rung 
With rumors of great crimes most like our own, 
Imputed to the Grand Duke's self, with some, 
Dyed deeper with a diabolical craft, 



326 BIANCA CAPELLO 



Wrought by the Duchess and a Jewish hag 
Confederate in her sorceries, acts to make 
Even our flesh'd senses shudder ? ^^ 

/Sche?: With disgust. 
Pah ! I recall 't. I was asham'd to find 
Men, that had brains, so credulous. 

Masnad. Why ! Thou shouldst 
Eatlier have blush'd to wonder. Lies as gross 
I have read in history, and suppose these too 
Will find some godly chronicler one day, 
With fools to credit him. For, mark j'-ou ! men 
Love nothing better than a good round lie 
That, blackening others, makes themselves more white 
In their own fancies ; and a monstrous tale 
Has marvelous attraction for some ears 
Which shut at simple facts. Cry thou. Amen ! 
So fellows like thee and me get their deserts 
With royal company in bad renown. 
Well now, I say, who fee'd our tongues for this ? 
Who but the Signer Malocuor ? And where 
Got he the ducats? Not from Francis-Mary; 
Nor from Don Pietro. Seest thou, ha? 

Scher. I see : 
The Ked-Cap 's haAvking at his brother's crown. 
But wherefore changes Malocuor his game, 
Praising the Duchess? — 

Masnad. And reviling hira? 
I know not. But, thou seest, the tale not now 
Is for the common ear : the Cardinal's own 



ACT Y. sr. 4. 327 

Haply is meant. Perchance to lash his purpose 
To some bold leap. 

Seller. Brave ! That may need our help. 
Masnad. But will not«get it — not mine — if, as I think, 
It vault too high. 

Scher. Thou mean'st ? 

Masnad. At the Grand Duchess, 
Or the Grand Duke himself. 

Scher. By Bacchus! no! 
That were to swallow coals. 'T is despcratc-bold 
As 't is : our talk will drive the Cardinal \\\\([. 

Masnad. Not before us. But after ! 

Scher. Then look sharp; 
Your steed may throw you, Signer ilalocuor ! 

Enter, in disguise, 
Cardinal and Malocuore. 

Masnad. Hush! 't is our men. Play Avell now. 

Mai. lloiu.l Have a care, 
]\Iy gracious lord! [vl?owcZ, in an assumed voice. 

Shall Ave go higher up ? 
Or choose our table here ? 

Card. \(:dso assuvied voice. 
Here is as well. 
2£al. Have you room, friends ? 

Masnad. At your good service. Sit. 
Mai. If we not interrupt your converse. [Card, and Mai. sit. 

Masnad. No. 



328 EIANCA CAPELLO 



We prate but idly, and of public things. 
Mai. [to a icaiter^ who Jias approached ihem. 
Monte Pulciano. — 

To Masnad.'] "We are strangers here. 
Masnad. From Lucca ? 

Mai. Ay. You Florentines detect 
Lightly our accent. 

Masnad. 'T is not strongly mark'd. 
MaL Sir, you are complaisant. 

Waiter brings wine and glasses^ is paid and retires.^ 

Please ye to partake 
Of our poor beverage, [fdling for all. 

Masnad. Drink we to the health 

Scher. Of the Grand Duchess, foremost of all ladies ! 
T]ie)j all rise — Cardinal reluctantly ; 
who covghs and sets down his glass untasted. 
Mai. With all my heart. 

Masnad. Your friend admires not much 
Our mistress. 

Ifal Ay, but better loves the Church. 

JScher. Perhaps another toast 

Card. Nay, that was well: 
But I drink rarely. 

Scher. And speak seldom. 

Card. How! 
\_Mal. pushes him secrefly. 
Mai. He is taciturn — yet choleric too. What news ? 
Is there aught stirring ? 

irasnad. You are strange indeed I 



ACT V. S:'. -1. 329 

Stirring ? All Florence is astir. 

Mai With Avhat ? 
Masnad. The Cardinal's amours. 

Mai. [maJdng again a sign to Card, 
to restrain himself. 
Cardinal who ? 

Seller. His Grace, 
The Cardinal de' Medici, our Sovereign's brother. 
2Iul. [again touching the Card, tuho ietraijs discomposure. 

Sure, they malign him. Who the happy fair ? 
Scher. Happy? Not much of that I He was rebuff'd. 
Masnad. The dame — Avhat think ye, sirs — especially you 
Who love the Church ? — was his own brother's spouse, 
Our lady Duchess I 

Card, [starting up^ and in his natural voice. 
That is false I 

Masnad. [starting tip too, and 
half-drawing his dagger. 
By Heaven ! 
Med. [affecting to restrain him. 

You have no cause ; my comrade's zeal 

Card, [with composure and in his assumed voice. 

Your pardon. 
Not your report I questional, but the tale ; 
Which, for the love I bear our Holy Church, 

[crossing himself 
I say again, is falsehood black as Hell. 
Masnad. 'T is well. But give me leave to tell you, brother, 
If you come here to battle for the Church 



330 BIAXCA CAPELLO 



Witli all who argue lier of filthy sin, 
You should provide yourself a score of lives. 
Card. That is my risk. — But whence had you this story ? 
Masnad. Whence? "Whence you will ? 'T is common as 
church-psalms. 
Shall I call hither some of yonder groups, 
To laugh you into faith ? Else, an' you hst, 
Here is my fellow had the tale direct. 
Seller. Ay, from Bettina. She 's to me, you wot, 

Much as your Cardinal would, but could not have, 
To him our Duchess. Now Bettina's mistress 
Is aunt of Count Ulysses Bentivoglio, 
Whose spouse, the Duchess' daughter, Pellegrina, 
Taught by her mother, told it unto her. 
Med. It is enough. 

Card. To prove the rumor, not its truth. 
Seller. What take you then our Cardinal to be? 
A saint in sackcloth ? or Saint Dominic ? 
Body of Bacchus I 't is a gallant prince, 

Young, handsome Let me see. \_peering in 

Card's face. 
Why, as I live ! 
He 's not unlike yourself, though finer far. 
And some j'ears younger, and, by right of blood. 
Adorer of hxir ladies. 

Card, [rising — to Mdl. 
Let us go. 
Mai. [rising.'] Good morning, gentlemen. 

Masnad. Grood morning, both. 



ACT V. sc. 4, 331 

Seller. \to Card., who has turned. 

Aud, brother, in jour praj'ers remember me. 

[Exeunt Card, and Mai. 
Was 't not well play'd? 

Masnad. God's faith! 't was all put home. 
Not Cini's surgery '" will heal those wounds. 
JScher. How he reneg'd! Now, as a soldier true, 
Holdst thou him guilty ? 

Masnad. Guilty, by this hilt ! 
Is Malocuor stark mad, Avithoat some base 
To build such fabric ? At a touch 't would fall 
And crush him into atoms. 

Scher. Precious prelate I 
This comes of giving princes to the Church. 
Masnad. — Without a true vocation. See thou now ! 
We both was godly. 

Scher. Eight enough, when rogues 
Usurp the purple. 

Masnad. Bravo, my Scherano! 
When I am Pope, look thou art made Archbishop. 
Scher. I will not covet then my neighbor's wife. 
Masnad. Brave ! But forget not. Eminence, our Cardinal 
But took his brother's place, young Don Giovanni, 
Whom swart Garzfa stabb'd. 

Scher. Whose fault was that ? 
Masnad. Why Cosmo's. But they are all a cursed race. 
Scher. So Isabella cried. And I, Amen ! 

Would we were rid of all your serpent brood I 
Masnad. Then thou criedst evil Take their slime away, 



332 BIANCA CAPELI.O 



The grass would grow too green for thee and me. 
Set Florence free again, and sift the laws 
The bloody Spaniard model'd for our soil, 
Would six score annual murders feed us fat ? 
Stablish right rule, the first stroke of its wand 
Would sweep us clean away, with all our webs, 
Which we have sj^un in palaces. Where then 
The twice two hundred of our valiant corps, 
Whose lightning, hurtled by the lion's cub, 
Men call the Cardinal Farnese's son, 
Pietro Leoncillo da Spoleti, 
Frightens the confines with its errant blaze, — ^* 
Where shall they forage, then ? And all the bands 
High barons and proud princes of the Church 
Pay or connive at for their private ends ? 
Useless, they shrink, and vanish by degrees. 
The rights of nature, which our foes call rapine. 
And the strong arm are put in sequestration, 
Bound by the moral fetters of the weak. 
Money must then be earn'd by vulgar toil ; 
And men of mettle, coop'd like barnyard birds, 
No more like falcons winnow the free air 
With wings unclipp'd and dip their beaks in blood. 
Law helps the coward and makes strong the weak. — 
When then, for that his man's-heart durst aspire 
To free Italia from a bestial yoke, 
They put wise Machiavelli to the rack,'® 
They did good service to us sons of fortune ; 



ACT V. SC. 4. 333 

For which let us be thankful. Live the Mcdiui ! 

[Drinks. 
JScher. Amen ! if they 're our Providence. But one, 
His spouse at least, will not be better long 
For thy mock loyalty, see I clearly through 
Our patron's masquerade. 

Masnad. Or haply both. 
So, Good night. Signer ilalocuor ! 

Seller. How so ? 
Masnad. Thinkst thou, his height once clomb, your crafty 
Cardinal 
Will let the ladder stand to mark his waj^ ? 
Push'd down, the steps are broken, or hid, rest sure, 
JScher. In cell or coffin then, rot unbewail'd, 

Thou worst as meanest villain of us all ! 
Masnad. That is wish'd well. And so I drink, Amen I 

[DrinJcs. 

They pass up the stage 
to mingle with the other groups, and 

Scene closes. 



334 BIAXCA CAPELLO 



Scene V. 

Same as Scene III. 

Enter precipitately , the Cardus^al followed hy iLvLocuoRE, 
hoth still u'caring their disguise. 

Card, [dashing down his hat and throiving off passionately 
his coarse mantJe. 
Hell's hottest fires on her treacherous soul! 
Would I could slay her inch by inch, and make, 
For her, a twelvemonth's agony of death ! 
Mai. [helping to divest him. 

That were not easy. And your Highness' hopes 
Would only be twelve useless months delay'd. 
At once, and by a single blow, 't were best. 
Card. Do it at once, then 1 

Hal. Has your Grace forgot? 
There is another life. 

Card. What mean'st thou ? 

Ifal. Dies 
The sorceress on the instant, with her dies 
Your great revenge. But live to better hope 
Tour glorious aspirations and your rights ? 

lie pauses a moment ^ holing intently 
on the Carx)ix.\l, icho motions him to proceed. 



ACT Y. SC. 5. 335 

Your royal brother weds again; and then 

[pauses again. 
Card. Devil! 

Mai. Or saint, even as it salts my lord. 

But devil would stand him now in better stead. 
Card. Be thou the devil, then. But let thy tongue 

Speak out thy damnable purpose in few words. 

Or, if thou canst, hint what is neither fit 

For thee to utter nor for me to hear. [ Wallas away. 
Mai. Has your Grace much remaining of the sum 

The Duchess strove so hard that you might get ? 
Card, [turning quicMg. 

Serpent ! thou stingest. Twice fifteen thousand 

went, — 

Thou hadst the distribution, and shouldst know,— 

To gain ncAV friends, and to secure the old. 
Mai. Would twice five thousand ducats be too much, 

To help your Highness to the throne of Florence 

And your most just revenge ? 

Curd. Take ten times that : 

And ten times more, if needful : Avhat thou wilt. 
Mai. Hypothecations on the royal fisc ? 

No; ten sufpxce. — • Tlicre is a white confection, 

A tremulous jelly made of swcctcn'd milk, 

And scented with the water of the rose. 

Of this the ro3\il j^air are strangely fond. 

At the grand banquet, meant to usher in 

That purpos'd chase which never shall take place, 

Eschew this viand. Its taste engenders thirst, 



336 BIAXCA CAPELLO 



"VYhich might prove fatal. On the morrow, men 
Shall hail your Highness Sovereign Duke in Florence-^ 
[Exit Mai. hoicing Mmself backwards^ 
Card. And where wilt tJiou be ? liop'st thou to go free, 
Charg'd with that perilous secret ? Could I bind 
Thy lips forever, think'st thou I could brook 
Thy insolent mien, where even now I read, 
As in thy cover'd taunts and ill-tim'd jests. 
Abhorrently familiar 1 swollen presumption. 
Bred of a conscious partnership in crime — - 
Could I bear this ? from thee? Or would I trust 
The servant who his loving lord betray'd 
To ruin and death ? No, thou vile tool ! To-day 
Complete thy function, which the will of fate 
Proffers to my ambition and revenge : 
To-morrow — I will break thy edge forever ! 
[Exit info the same 
cabinet as before (in Scene III.) 



ACT V. sc. 6. 337 



Scene VI. 

An Antechamher leading to the G. Duchess's 
Apartments in the Pitti. 

SlGNORA ]\IaLOCUORE, 

passing sloicly and thoughf/ully through. She stops 
suddenly midway. 

Sign. *° [to herself.] Donna Virginia ! I were better pleas'd 
To want her sweet simplicity. 

JTh tcr 

from the door facing her, and tchich is supposed 

to lead to the G. Duchess's ApartnientSj 

Donna Virginia. 

Aloud.'] Is 't so ? 

Donna Virginia absent from tlie chase ? 

How shall her friend and royal sister spare her? 
Virg. Better than would I hope my loyal lord, 

Who stays behind, being slightly indispos'd. 

But what keeps you, Signora, from Caiano ? 
Sign. A hke and yet a different cause. My lord, 

Though loyal I hope, Avill better do without me; 

And I am ailin"; too. 



538 BIAXCA CAPELLO 



Virg. That is a jest. 

Sign. Then seriously.''' I hke Caiano much; 

The Villa Poggio more. The distance, scarce 

An hour's easy drive, is soon gone through. 

And passing-well I love the autumnal chase. 

When the wind rustling through the scant-leav'd forest 

Calls blood into the faded cheek, and dote 

On royal banquets, where the cost and care 

Are not my portion, but the pleasure is. 

Eut, as it happen'd, my well-loving spouse 

Secm'd in no very loving mood to-day : 

And so, to avoid the infliction of his si^leen, 

I supervise the change the Duchess order'd 

In the blue hangings of the Silver'd Chamber 

( Whence now I think your Highness comes, ) more 

pleas' d 
To glad one person than to worry two. 

Virg. Happily said; and, surely, kindly done. 

Now could I envy you the sweet bright smile 
That will reward your forethought. 

Sign. for that, 
So chary has the Duchess been to me 
Of smiles and sweetness, I have long forgotten 
There was such blessing: and this time, mcthinks, 
She Avill have no will to grant if 

Virg. Ah, j^gu point 
To her strange sadness. Just before she left, 
I ask'd what ail'd her. Kissing me, she answer'd, 
"Nothing in healtli" ; then, with a pensive smile, 



339 



As tliougli it irk'd her to seem so deject, 

Added, "There is a wcigiit upon my heart; 

A sad foreboding : it will all have gone, 

Ere next we meet." So saying, she embrac'd me, 

Then, parting, gaz'd a moment in my face 

Wistful and sad, and press'd my hand. Her eyes — 

Were wet Avith teai-s. 

Sign. As yours are now. Madonna. 
This is illusion. The dejected spirits. 
Pressing upon the heart, allow these phantoms 
To cloud the unwary brain.*^ Who has not seen, 
In sickness, or when brooding care makes sleep 
Desert the wearying pillow, monstrous forms, 
Or bodiless heads, misshapen, that still come 
Nearer and nearer, spreading on the eye 
More large and hideous, and in sequence close, 
Eank upon rank, in tapering vista long ; 
The last dim phantom lessening to a point, 
Lost in the far perspective ? Of such stufi" 
Were fashion'd these sick bodements. It is said. 
The Cardinal and our royal Lady quarrel' d. 
This haply has deprcss'd her lively spirit, 
And made your parting mournful. Did j^our Grace 
Remark their greeting ere the train took horse ? 
Virg. I thought the Duchess' mien constrain'd and cold. 
Yet was it courteous : and the Duke's demeanor, 
Gracious and kind as*svonted, veil'd it all. 
I think none else would note it, but Avho knew 
There had been words between them. 



340 EIAXCA CArELT.O 



Sign. And himself? 
Virg. There was — perhaps I fancied it — at times 
A strange abstraction in the Cardinal's looks, 
Which, lix'd on vacancy, appear'd to see 
Or seek for something. Once, when in this mood, 
The Duke address'd him. Visibly he started, 
And — so I thought — turn'd deadly pale. But then 
He came from his apartment looking pale. 
Sign. Doubtless 't was fancy — as your Ilighncss knew 
A cause for discomposure. 

Virg. But 't was not 
Fancy, I saw him eye the Duchess once 
With mortal hatred. May I be forgiven 
If I misjudge my father's blood, or wrong 
A Christian prelate ! but the look was one 
That made mj^ heart stand still. 

Sign. It cannot be. 
The Cardinal- Prince reveres — tliat know I well ! 
Or, rather, loves his royal brother's spousg, 
As truly as — myself, who from the first 
Was wedded to her fortunes, — nay, Avith love 
And reverence equal to mj' honest lord's. 
Whose rare devotion none can doubt. 

Virg. Indeed ! 
Heaven grant it be so ! Heaven itself must grieve 
Over these unnatural discords. Yet I doubt. 
The Duchess' heart has had some heavy shock. — 
But I must not detain j'ou, dear Signora; 
And my lord looks for me. [going. 



ACT Y. SC. 6. 341 

Sign, [attending Zier.] Ah, happy lord ! 
And happier h\dy ! When you have been wed, 
As I have been, for two and twenty years. 
Your Prince will be more patient, and yourself, 
Believe me, much less anxious. 

Yirg. Fie, Signora! 
Why, when our hearts are happy in their Spring, 
Warn us that Autumn 's coming? Bat I know 
The sere and yellow leaf is not for us. 
Whose souls shall know no season in their loves, 
Like Francis and Bianca's. 

Sign. O'er whose soul 
Come shadows of the Winter even now. 

Exit YiRGiNiA attended hg 
the Signora, — ivlio presently re-enters. 

Like tliem ? Thou simple one ! What, should I say 
" Heaven grant it be so " I Little couldst thou think 

That wish would threaten Is it death to both? 

I fear me Malocuor has gone too fur. 

He hates the proud Venetian ; the deep wounds 

Inflicted by her scorn more sorely rankle 

In his dark brooding spirit than mine ; the slight 

Put on him, when the dead Intendant's friend, 

Sennuccio, rose to favor, has given perhaps 

Desperate impulsion to the bold designs 

Wherein the Cardinal-Prince has long involv'd him. 

This childish-hearted lady took no note 



542 BIANCA CAPELLO 



Of Avliat I saw, and trembled as I saw, 
When Malocuor, by order of the Duke, 
Spurr'd on before the cavalcade, to see 
That everything was ready. Even now 
Perhaps the deed is doing ! Help us Grod ! 
I would prevent it if I could : but what. 
What know I ? what dare hint, Avhose very thought 
Is but conjecture ? Oh, that heavy thought ! 
Would, would 't were morrow, and the Duke were 
safe ! 

Exit, hy ihe door whence Virginia 
had entered. 



Scene VII. 

A rich Hall in the magnificent Villa del Poggio. 

At the top of the scene^ a large folding-door, partially open, 

gives a view of the Banqueting- Room, hrilUantly 

illuminated. The tables set out, etc., etc. 



ACT V. sc. T. 343 

There is an uproar — tlie guests are risen 
fro'in their seatSj in various attitudes of consternation, 
and horror. The Gcaxd Duke and Duchess are seen 
supported in the arms of Sexnuccio and others, xuhile 
hefore them stands the Cardinal, gesticu- 
lating and ordering. 

Enter 

fi'om the Banqueting- Room, through 

the open doors, and in precipitation, the 

Duke of 'Bv.xccia.^o, followed as hurriedhj hy Aebioso, — 

hoth ivith loohs of dismay and horror ; and, less 

impetuously, from the side scene, with hat on 

and mantle, and spurred, Don Pietro. 

Don P. "What is this noise, Orsini ? Thou art pale 
And horror-stricken ! 

Brace. 'T is the end of things. 
The Duke and Duchess are both poison'd. 

Don P. Poison'd ! 
How ? and by Avhom ? 

Brace. Think whom their death would profit; 
Then say by whom ? Let Abbioso speak. 

Don Pietro stands as if stupefied^ looMng on them hothj 

then, while Abbioso spealcs, gazing on the scene 

in tJie Banqueting-Poom. 

Ahh. [speaJiing hurriedhj. 

The Duchess press'd the Cardinal to partake 



344 BIAXCA CAPELLO 



Of a white sweetmeat, wliicli he still refus'd 

On plea of health derang'd. The Duke and she, 

Eagerly eating, suddenly were seiz'd 

"With mortal pangs. The cry arose, of Poison ! 

The Cardinal, pointing to a ring he wore, 

Declar'd the stone, through Providence, had warn'd 

him. 
And charg'd the Duchess loudly with the crime. 

Don P. With what design ? How could it profit herf 
'T is well for me I sit not next the throne : 
He might have laid this devil's-Avork to me. 

Brace. He has sent to seize the fortresses already. 
The troops are order'd out. All in his name. 

Don P. These were his sj^eculations for my good ! 

Facing once more, the Banqv^ting-Roomj lie moves a step as 
"if to go to itj then stojiSj anclj adjusting his mantle: 

I '11 not look on this scene. I cannot aid them. 

And righteous Cain must face his God alone. 
Brace. We both were fleeing. Isabella's death 

Might lend the new Duke pretext for his hate 

Against the Orsini. 

Ahh. And m}' stubborn tongue 

Has not sung anthems in his Highness' praise. 
Don P. I will ride back. 

Through the doors of the Danqueting-Room, 

attendants are seen carrying out the Gkand Duke 

aw(Z BiAXCA, the Cardinal fulJoicing. The guests dispersing 

or gazing on each other in mute horror. 



ACT V. sc. 7. 345 

Don P;etro throws a ]nirri:d look on the scene, 

and is about to leave hastily hy the side luhere he had entered, — 

Braccian'O and Abbioso, in lihe manner, at the 

opposite side, — ichen, Enter ihrough the 

folding-door, Archbisuop of Pisa, 

Bentivoglio, and others. 

What now? What means that movement? 
Archb. His Grace has order'd that the dying pair 
Be carried to the Vaulted Eoom. 

Don. P. The sole 
Disfurnish'd and dark chamber in the house ! 
JSenti. And suffers none to follow. 

Abb. God in Heaven! 
Brace, 'T is time we fled. 

Don P. Till better days, Farewell. 
Exeunt, hurriedly, 
Don PiETRO at one side, Bracciano and Abbioso at the other. 

The Arcubisuop and the rest, who 

group around him, remain; and other guests, both lords 

and ladies, are seen coming from the Ban- 

queting-Room, as the scene, closing, 

gives place to 



3iG BIAXCA CAPEIXO 



ScEXE VIII. AND Last. 

A gloomy, vaulted chamber, with a single arched dooncag. 
There is no furniture hut a large armed-chair. And 

the room is almost totally darJc. 

Enter 

through the arch 

the Cardinal ; the Grand Duke 

and BiANCA, supported in the arms of servants ,' 

Seknuccio, hearing tip Bianca's head. Then 

Malocuore, holding a lighted torch. 

Card. Set them down here. 

BiANCA is placed tenderly in the great chair 

hy Sennuccio. The Grand Duke rests on the floor at her 

feet, his head upon her knees. 

Retire ye. [Exeunt servants. 
To MaL] Let none in. 
G. D. A fire is in my entrails. my God 1 

Is there no help? Have pity, Ferdinand, brother! 
Senn. I have sent for both your surgeons, dear my lord. 
One must now soon be here. 



ACT V. sc. 8. 347 

Curd, [m a voice of iliunder. 
AVlio bade thee, dog ? 
Make fast the door, [to Mul. 

Malocoure puttmg his iorcJi through a socJcet 
projecting from the ivcdl of the chamherj 
lolts the door. 

They shall not enter hero 
Till Heaven's act of vengeance is gone through. 
Senn. \leaving the G. Dulce. 

I will go forth, oppose who may or dare, 
And make this treason public. Thou, [draiving on Mai. 

stand back ! 
Card. Guard the door, Malocuore ! If he strive. 
Stab thou the gray-hair'd traitor to the heart ! 

Sennuccio and Malocuore — the latter his hack against 
*■ the door — cross sioords. 

G. D. Forbear, Sennuccio ! On thy oath ! Sole friend, 
Thou canst not stead us : aid would come too late. 
Ferdinand ! could not my life suffice ? 
Must thy fangs rend this innocent victim too ? 
Biati. [who has hitherto hung over her lord, 
lifting novj her head. 
Die with the spirit of a man, my lord. 
Appeal not to that tiger. 

Card. Hast thou found 
Thy speech at last, vile sorceress ? It Avas thou, 
Thou ■with thy black enchantments and damn'd drugs, 



348 EIANC-V CAPELLO 



Ilast done this deed. The dose was meant for me. 
Lut thy weak husband took it unforewarn'd ; 

And thou, to escape tlie punishment 

Bian. Of what? 
Knows not the world, that poisoning my lord, 
Of will or not, I had done thee precious service ? 
Thou seek'st to make me guilty, yet thou knowest 
I bear within me Avhat might blast thy hopes, 
Could I but live so long to give it life. 

For this, and thy defeated criminal passion 

O. D. Water ! water ! for the love of God ! 
Is there no drop? 

Bian. And thou seest this, unmov'd! ^ 

\to Card. 
And thou, God, art witness unto all ! 

G. D, I die, Bianca. Let thy — arms — thy lips 

With an effortj he raises himself on onehnee. 

Embracing, she kisses, him, lie falls, 

dead, across her feet. 

Bian. My lord ! My lord ! 

I will not wail thee long. — 
Sennuccio, hear. — agony ! this thirst ! — 
Give — give me breath awhile, kind Heaven ! — 

Sennuccio, — 
The laws of God, thou seest, are irreversible, — 
And even our indiscretions — soon or late — 
Come to the judgment, and are all amerc'd. 



ACT V. sc. 8. 349 

Tell — tell my sire, this punishment I bear — 

In just requital — _ of my disregard 

Of his parental anguish, my neglect 

Of my first duty — when — I fled my home ; 

And pray him — that he will not — not remember 

His child unkindly — for the one great sin — 

Of all her life. [Dies. 

Sexxuccio, u'Jio has kndt on one hnee reverently 

ieforeher^ Icisaing her liand^ taJces now this Jiand in both of 

hiSj and bends his head over it- — remaining in 

this attitude to the end. 

Mai. [taking his torch from the socket and holding it 
over Bianea. 

'T is finish'd. [Inverts the torch, against the 
floor, and extinguishes it. 
Card, [coldlg.] It is well. 
ThroAV back the door, and lot the crowd swarm in. 

Malocuore opens wide the door, and n strong 

light from ivithin, as from an illuminated corridor, 

is poured upon the group, — while 

Enter, ARcnBisnop of Pisa, Bextivoglio, 

and others of the Court. 

Behold the consummation of the crime 1 



350 BIANCA CAPELLO 



Let tlie Great Duke Lave burial meet his ranlv ; 
The sorceress fling into the public vaults. 

[Exit, folloived by Muhcuor. 

The spectators gatJier soJemnhj round 

the partially liyhted bodies — Sennuccio still Ixeeping 

his position — Bianca lying haclc in the 

chaiTj the Grand Duke across her 

feet — and slowly the 



Curtain, falls. 



N O T E ^ 



NOTES TO BIANCA CAPELLO 



1. — p. 20G. A sliout, Fietro — ] The remark made in Xote (and sub- 
note) 2, of "The Double Deceit," (vol. IV. p. 255,) applies in this 
instance. The name, like Bianca, is made a trisyllable. But, tbougli 
it is so far anglicized (with others in the play), let tbe Actor sound 
i as e and e as a. So with the fictitious and character-name Sennuccio* : 
although, by separating the two final vowels, it is made to be of four 
syllables, give it otherwise the Italian pronunciation, and sound it 
Sen-nooi'-clie-o. 

Braociano, too, {Act III., Sc. 3,) thougb it is less important, lias the 
first c sounded as t. Iqx Italian, it is but of three syllables {Brat- 
cliali'-no) ; in the text, it is of four. 

2.— P. 210. Then softhj hade me rise and speak.'\ For the Stage. 
omit from here to " My thoughts came back," nine lines below. 

3.— P. 213. Desires lie feels not. Affluence clips the icings. Of 
honesty which flies distress— 1 For the Stage, substitute, as more 
directly intelligible : 

* Sennino; dirainutive ot Seniio: applied jocosely, but without disparagement, 
to a person who, while yet young, has the gravity, the serious manners, and the 
prudence of age. "We have a corresponding phrase, but comic and somewhat 
vulgar, and partaking of the grotesque, in the compound Sobersides. 



354 NOTES TO 



" Emotions that he feels not. "Wealth bmcls down [secures] 
The honesty that yields to want." 

Or: 

" Emotions that he feels not. "Wealth keeps home 
The honesty that flies distress ■" — 

4.— P. 231. — fcocMxZ.] For the Stage, read " pallet." 

5.— P. 236. Forget tliy art.] More plainly, for the Stage: "DeaJ 
frankly once." Or, read the verse : ^ 

" Forget the courtier. "U'hat is said of late ? " 

6.— P. 242. Mlio has, etc.] Or, if the Actress prefer it, 
" hate me not ! -who have one only grief, 
The thought that thou art pining unconsol'd '' 

7.— P. 253. Her natural pride — ] See Note 22. 

8.— P. 25G. Francis Ms cloistered her—} This he did on the veiy 
day of Cosmo's decease, who had most liberally dowered Camilla. 
"With this exception, says Galluzzi, Francesco acted conscientiously 
in all his father's trusts and legacies. Istor. del Granduc. di Toscana 
sotto il Gov. della Casa Medici (Firenzo 17S1, in 4to), t. ii. pp. 239, 240. 
Previously, (p. 176,) he tells us, she attempted to dominate the whole 
Court, to be the dispenser of favors, and sowed discord between 
father and son. And (p. 179): the Cardinal Ferdinand curried favor 
with Camilla, and obtained through her considerable sums of money 
for his lavish expenditures in Eome.— Whatever therefore the policy 
of the measure, the new Grand-duke may have felt himself justified 
in putting this dangerous woman under restraint ; and subsequent]}', 
when, as will be seen, he released her on the marriage of her daughter 
Donna Virginia, her house became the rendezvous of the conspirators 
who, with the secret impulsien and aid of the Cardinal, rendered 
Francesco's reign and life at all times more or less unquiet. 



BIAXCA CAPEIXO 355 



9. — P. 257. — whose near death Must come of Victors triumph !'[ 
This, as the exclamation-point denotes, is said ironically by Malocuor, 
■who appears to be reciting after what he calls the " psalms." But 
the historian just quoted, with his prejudice against Bianca, and 
his steadfast purpose (unknown perhaps to himself, yet obvious 
enough to his readers) to leave nothing unused that can be presented 
against her, or against the Grand-duke, whom he seems to hold in 
equal dislike, gravely recounts as a fact (ii. 299) what I have here 
made to be predicted as a malignant and extravagant calculation 
of the event. See Append. II. y. 1578. 

10. — P. 257. The two princesses Exeunt, ete.] The profligate Isa- 
bella is described as highly accomplished. It is credible. The Medici 
were not wanting in talent, whatever their moral deficiencies. To 
beauty and grace, says the historian of that House, she added letters, 
poetry, music, and the practice of various languages. Granducato ; 
ii. 2G8. It is noticeable that he touches very lightly, scarcely indeed 
perceptibly, the licentiousness of this princess. — See, in Appendix II., 
p. 378. 

11. — P. 259. Bufsci'een'd his strumpet sister in my spite.'] This line 
is characteristic. But, if preferred for the Stage, it may read : 
" But kept my missives back, to screen his sister." 

12. — P. 27G. Master Cappelli — ] " Ciascuno si chiama a Firenze 
per . . . ec, e s'usa comuneraente, se non v' e distinzione di grado 
e di molta eta, dire tu e non voi a un solo, e solo a' cavalieri a' dottori 
cd a canonici si da del messere, come a medici del maestro., ed a frati 
del padre." Varcui. Storia Fior. III. p. 118, ed. MO. (S". 1S03.) 

13.— P. 279. The Drop falls.] Here the play, being so far complete 
in itself, may, for the purposes of representation, be made occasion- 
ally to terminate, giving thus a shorter drama, although not finishing 
the ti'agedy as it is told in history. 



350 KOTES TO 

Further, thougli tliere is a considerable interval of time between all 
the Acts, the license of the romantic drama being in that respect 
stretched to the utmost, and though the space of time between the 
4th and 5th Acts is greater than that between the 3d and 4th, yet it 
strikes me as worthy of suggestion, tliat when the whole of the play 
is represented it might be well to have some interlude, of music or 
otherwise, between the falling of the Drop on the death of Bonaventuri 
and the rising of it again on the announcement of Bianca as Grand- 
duchess. Such leaps for the imagination of the spectator are, it is 
true, no more considered in our English drama, than they ai"e for the 
reader, who makes them easily everywhere ; but it miglit be an aid 
to the illusion nevertheless, to adopt the hint I have suggested. 

14. — P. 2S0. — Have her loitcVs-arts Enchanted too your Highness ?] 
See latter half of Note 22, and in Appendix II. the 4th paragraph 
under y. 157G. 

15. — P. 283. ScEXE II.] Or, the first Scene continued, if preferred, 
with simply the new Entry : " Enter from opposite sides, etc." 

IG. — P. 233. 3fet at Flrenzuol the pompous train.'] Or, for the Stage, 
Kode forth to meet the ninety in advance : 
namely, the ninety Venetian nobles, mentioned in Act IV., Sc. 4, (page 
294.) Firenzuola is five miles from Florence {Firenze.) 

The description of the pomp of the Venetian embassy and of its 
reception, of the solemn espousals of the Grand-duke with Bianca and 
her coronation as Queen of Cyprus, as given in Scenes 4 and 5 of Act 
IV., is historical. 

17. — P. 2S.5. Our beast still ramped where gleams the Vdied croioji.] 
That is, from the crest. This gave way to the crown, granted, as the 
pretentious legend on its circle indicates, by Pope Pius V. to Cosmo. 
To mollify the people, the centre of the circle bore a large red lily, 
the emblem of the Republic. 

Jioundle is the general name for a circular charge. But in the arms 



BIANCA CAPELLO 357 



of Medici, tlie tinctiu'e of the roundles being gules (red), and their 
shape convex (lil^e a bun or a button), their speciiic name is torteawx, 
or torteauxes. In Italian however these charges are called palle 
(balls)*, which name comes nearer to the x>ellets ("gun-stones") of 
English heraldry; bat the pellet is tinctured sahle. The reigning 
branch of the Medici carried or six torteaux (" sei palle rosse in campo 
d' oro")— six red balls in a field of gold. Of the three which are in 
chief (upper third of the shield) the central one after 1465 was blazoned, 
by concession of the King of France, " in segno di singulare afiezione," 
(Vine. Borgh. ut infra cit.) with threo Jleurs-de-lys of goid, and there- 
fore it was made azure. - ■ 

For the verse in the text may be redd by the Stage : " Our gonfalon 
bore not the ducal crown." 

18.— P. 285. God's might ! the throne of ClemenVs bastard son, etc.] 
That is of the first Duke (or Doge, as was his title of installation,) 
Alessandro, who, although accounted a natural son of Lorenzo the 
Younger (Duke of Urbino) by a simple country-girl, f was more than 

* It is easy to see that this species of charge in tlie escutcheon would subject the 
Medici to the malice of their defamevs, who said it represented tlie j'i^^s of the 
ancestral profession. This saying at least had humor in it ; but the exjilanation 
of theij- flatterers, who would have it be emblematic of the marks made by the 
mace of a giant named Mugello killed by Averardo under Charlemagne (See 
Litta: Fam. Cel. Hal. (Milano 1S25, in fol.) vol. ii.) is simply absurd. In fact 
these balls are of frequent occurrence in the arms of other Florentine families, as 
Of the Forahoschi, the Cipriani, the Squarciuliipi, etc. V. Borghini : Deir Anne 
delle Famigl. Fior. (Fiorenz. 15S5, in 4to, P. ii p. 57.) Some of the Medici bore 
seven jpaZZe, some eight, (ib. p. 7S.) I think it not unlikely that the design arose 
from the bosses or studs which are sometimes seen in ancient bucklers. In the 
escutcheon of 1-373, the peculiar crest from which issues the demi beast, whatever 
that be, rampant, is strewed with them,— in heraldic phrase, seme of torteaux. 

t When the Florentine exiles, or their partisans, wrote upon the walls of his lodg- 
ing at Itome, in allusion to his mother's place of birth, '' Viva Alessandro da Col- 
levecchio," he merely laughed, saying, he xcas ohliycd to them for having 



358 NOTES TO 



suspected of being a bastard of Pope Clement VII.'s.* (See Varchi. 
IV., p. 344.) The mother herself was uncertain which of the two had 
the better claim to liim.—Granduc. lutrod. xxxii. F. App. I. n. 9. c 

Cosmo (or Cosimo, as the Italians write it), the successor of Ales- 
sandi'o (who left no legitimate children) and the father oi Francesco 
and Don Pietro, was of a collateral branch of the Medici, being fourth in 
descent fl-om the younger brother of the first Cosmo. Ileuce the 
epithet, "unlineal." 

As to the origin of this renowned ilimily, Sansovino {Delia Origins 
e cZe' Fatti delle Famigl. lUus. cC Italia ; 4to., 15S2 : a mere catalogi^e) 
recounts (citing Villani) the absurd fiction which made their descent 
from rulers in Greece. GaUuzzi {Istor, ec. supra cit.) says their 
enemies reproached them with many low conditions : " di aver fatto 
il Carbonaio in Mugellof, 1' Oste e il Biscazziere {professional gamUer'] 

taiigM 7iiinic7ience he was, icMcIi he did not Icnoio lefore. — TAr.cni. Stor., ec, 
V. 193. GaUuzzi says she was a housemaid. — Introd. p. xxxii. 

* Clement VII. (Giulio de' Medici), himself illegitimate, had two illegitimate 
nephews, one the Alessandro above, the other IppoUto son of Giuliano. It was 
left to his option by the Emperor Charles V. which of the two should be made the 
head of their House and prince of the Kepublic. Ippolito is described by Varchi 
as adorned with every grace of mind and body : " Era Ippolito Cardinal de' Medici 
in sul piu bel fiore deir eta, non avendo piu di ventun' anno," [his competitor 
was a year younger] ; " erabellissimo e grato d' aspetto, era di felicissimo ingegno, 
era pieno di tutte le grazie e virtu, era affabile e alia mano con ognuno, era cnme 
quegli che ritraeva alia magnificenza e benignita di Leone, e non alia scarsitti 
e parsimonia di Clemente, liberalissimo verso tutti gli uomini eccellenti, o in arme 
o in Ictterc, o in qualsivoglia altra dell' arti libcrali, ec.'" (Star. iv. 845 sq.) 
Yet that true PontifF, the slave of passion and of predilection and prejudice, and 
guided in public policy by a love of power without scrupulousness and by the 
dictates of a supposed self-interest that rendered him incapable of the wisdom 
of a statesman, preferred to this princely character the profligate and incompetont 
Alexander. And this choice confirmed the belief of his paternitj'. 

t Fiffeen miles from Florence. — There was the villa of Cosmo, the second Duke, 
at the time of his election. 



BIANCA CAPELLO - 359 



in Firenze, e di avere avuto uu Medico, ec." Their adulators derived 
them from Consuls and Emperors of Rome. Their reasonable origin 
is fi-om a physician, said (by those who hold a middle course) to 
have been of Charlemagne. Galluzzi dates however the known rise of 
the Medici from Averardo (son of Averardo who loas Fodesta [Cliief 
Magistrate, Bailiff (in the old sense) or Mayor] of Lucca, r2:iO), wlio 
accumulated by commerce great riches,* divided in 1319 between his 
six song. (1st. I. pp. x, xi.) In the genealogical chart prefixed to 
Varchi's History, Averardo (surnamed Slcci or Di Bice) is the base, 
and from him Giovanni rising is made (rOn/«7o»ier(?, (literally, standard- 
bearer, as the moderns sajAIfiere, but used like Podesta, to indicate the 
Chief Magistrate of the city,)t in 1421. The actual reign of the Medici 
as Dukes of Florence (through the subversion of the liberty of their 
country by Papal intrigues and the power of Austria) dates only from 
Alessandro just mentioned, the seventh in descent from Averardo, 
in the year 1532. 

For Bianca's blood, Galluzzi says (ii. 84) : " Her father, besides the 
gi'eat authority which he liad in the Republic, was connected by rcla- 
tionsliip with its principal families. He had for his second wife a 
daughter of the House of Grimani, sister of the Patriarch of Aquileia." 

19.— P. 28G. —theFregadi.l The Venetian Senate. 

20.— P. 287. Let her, I say, Beware the Cardinal MedicVs venom'd 
fang.'] The entire Scene expresses my deliberate opinion as to the 

* We see thus easily how, as Varchi observes (I. 8), partly by their prudence 
and liberality, partly through the impruiience and avarice of other?, but not 
without long trials and contests, anioni; which must be counted their banishment 
from Florence three times in ninety-four years, the House of }i?edici attained 
• in fact, but not as yet in name, and in the face of perpetual eniinties, and with 
the drawback of undying and dangerous hatred, the m.'\stery i.f the Uepuljlic. ■ 
t " E nel vero la signoria col gonfaloniere, e massimamente senza 1' appello, era 
magistrato tirannico, & per meeso di lei, oltra mille altri fcandoli e soHevaaienti 
si fece Cosiino poco meno cite padrone assoluto di Firenze." Varciii. I\'. .3i2. 



360 KOTES TO 

history of the Grand-duchess Bianca. Taken with Appendix I., it will 
supersede with those who care not for authorities, and scarcely trouble 
themselves at all with notes in a work of this nature, any exposition 
derived from the carelessness, the want of insight into character, or 
the criminal misrepresentation of historians. The more studious 
reader will And every satisfaction in Appendix II. — The Blographie 
Universelle indicates a Life of Bianca in these words : " Siebenkees a 
6crit une vie de B. C. d' apres les sources originales, Gotha 1739, in 
8° . . . traduitc en anglais par Ludger." This translation is on the 
Catalogue of the K Y. Society Library, but has disappeared in some 
manner from its shelves, for after repeated inquiries I have failed to 
obtain any knowledge of its existence. 

21.— P. 288. The sorroic that, etc.] For the Stage, omit these two 
verses. 

22.— P. 289. Titian, haclhe Uv^d, Had pointed to the air of native 
pride That dignifies thy beauty, and had said, etc.] Noble saw two 
likenesses of her at Strawberry Hill, one a miniatiu'e, the other a por- 
trait ; " the former [taken] when Bianca was at the height of her 
charms, the other not long before her death. * * * Her countenance," 
lie adds, " discovers that native pride which made her scorn to be 
anything less than wife even to a sovereign." Mem. lllus. House of 
Medici^ (Lend. 8°. 1797,) p. 287 sq. Althougli his argument, that, if she 
had yielded before marriage, the Duke " would have been content 
with lier ftivors without marrying her," (p. 278,) I do not consider 
tenable,! yet the quality of mind he ascribes to our heroine, if he did 

* An inaccurate and superficial worlv, whicli, altliougli I have made use of it for 
the purposes of the drama, I cite only for the interesting item of the pictures. 

t And in fact there is the example of Cosmo, who married Camilla Martelli after 
she had borne liim Donna Virginia. A better confirmation of our heroine's chas- 
tity would be found perhaps in the fact of her private marriage with the Grand- 
dulie. This ceremony was performed by the Duke's confessor two months after 
the death of Joanna (1578), according to Galluzzi, who adds: the guardianship 



BIAXCA CAPELLO SGI 



not mistake the pictured expression, is sucli as does not accord with 
low profligacy, much less with the despicable traits which Galluzzi 
imputes to her, who indeed thereby contradicts his own description. 
" Assai potenti," he has said, speaking of Bianca when Francesco 
was yet but Prince, " erano le attrative di questa giovine, poiche oltre 
i nicri'd della bellezza aveva ancora otteuuto dalla natura un iugegno 
tale che somministrava tutte le arti per rendersi 1' arbitra del suo 
amante. Le grazie, la vivacita congiunta con una certa facondia" ec. 
(pp. 87, 88, t. c.) This fascination the public were taught to consider 
the result of magic arts and of philters ; and the eulogist of the Cardinal 
Grand-duke has not hesitated gravely to record the scandal. See in 
Appendix II. " y. 1576," 4th paragraph. 

Titian, who (as said in Act I. Sc. 4.,) actually painted Bianca, (See 
Append. III.) died three years before the point of time in the text. 

23.— P. 290. Joy for the offspring, 7iox)e of lohich I nurse —'] From 
this line to the close of the passage, the Stage will substitute : 
For my throne's heritage, thou thb day shalt be 
Dower'd by thy country with those honors which 
The world will value. Thy true crown is here. 

24.— P. 290. When Your Highness' brother—'] Omit from here to 
" But for this cause,"— seventh line below. 

of the three princesses took aicaij suspicion from her living in, the Palace. Had 
Bianca yielded her favors already, tliere had been no need of a private mar- 
riage, and if her amour with the Dulce were notorious, there could have been, 
in the first jjlace, no occasion for avoiding suspicion, and secondly, if attempted 
by sucl> an artifice it would not have been sacceisful. Kot to say, that a known 
mistress of the Grand-duke would not have been appointed guardian to his female 
children, although, as in the case of Mad. de Genlis, a liaison simply suspected 
would offer no impediment. But all argument falls to the ground if it be fact 
tliat Don Antonio de' Medici, whether really her son or only imposed upon tho 
Grand-duke as such (as Galluzzi would have it), was publicly recognized as ille- 
gitimate. See Appendix II. y. 15T6 ; .also ih. note 24, p. 408. 



362 NOTES TO 



25.— P. 291. Ticlce Itcippy^ etc.] Omit here five lines. 

26.— P. 29S. Tlie Ambassadors —] Omit Q'om here to " About tliis 
hour," (niiitli liue below.) 

27.— P.299. il/!//a?/ter, etc.] Omit to " But I should shame to own.'' 

28.— P. 299. Andlicr too — ] Omit to "This coronation over,"— 
seven verses. 

29. — P. 299. She cannot live, etc.] The most difficult point for cie 
to get over in the biased statements of the hostile historians is Bianca's 
expressions to the Cardinal at the close of the y. 1580 (in a letter) : 
" Jo vivo pill a lei che a me, poiche vivo in lei, per il che senzalei non 
posso vivere, ec." — {Granduc. ii. Si-l. ) See, besides the CarcUnaVs own 
doubts in the succeeding lines, what tui'n Bianca is made to give to 
them in Act V. Sc. I. They are however too extravagant, I will not 
say to be genuine, (for I have known at least one spiritual and viva- 
cious woman of high breeding and of proud temper, and who possessed 
that very fluency of language which GaUuzzi ascribes to Bianca, to 
indulge in quite as extravagant terms of aiTection in vrritiug to a 
stranger to her blood, neither husband nor lover, and with even less 
motive)* — but too exti-avagant to seem genuine ; and the malice that 
flid not hesitate to blacken her in other respects would find no com- 
punction against such a counterfeit. But supposing them to be truly 
of Bianca's writing, and that they are not to be interpreted by any 
vivacity of disposition and vanity of eloquence, what follows ? That 
there was more than a legitimate attachment betAveen the Cardinal 
and his brother's wife. And this is to concede the whole point in dis- 
cussion, and to justify, even historically, the part I have, equally 
with the romancer (or romancers,) assigned to the Cardinal. V. Ap- 
pend. I. 

* One tiling is worth observing ; such persons cannot be sincere. If Eianca did 
write that letter, she was wanting iu candor. 



BIAKCA CAPKLLO 36S 



30.— P. 300. Xo, it were Letter, etc.] Omit to "As yet," — eleveatli 
line below ; then omit the words " To rectify this wrong." 

31. — P. 309. From taint by such a traitor — traitor, ay .'] Wliich may 
read, at the option of the Theatre : 

From taint by such .i traitor. 

Card. Traitor! 

Bian. A J' ! 

32.— P. 310. Death ! 'J should sink to tliis .'] Or, avoiding the 
ellipsis : "Death ! Am I come to this !" 

33.— P. 320. She might have had, etc.] This was his mistress, a 
handsome woman, whom he had brought back with him from Madrid 
in 1584. The Prince in Ms profligacy seemed to expect that she- 
would be admitted at Court, and was displeased when Bianca, as was 
natural and proper, refused to receive her. V. Granduc. II. 3b7. 

34.— P. 322. The Pope gives dispensation — ] See A2:)pcndix II. at 
y. 15S5. 
Immediately before the verse (in Act III. Sc. 4.), 

" "When I throw off this purple which I hate," 
occurred in the first MS. the following three verses. They were 
superfluous, therefore weak. I introduce them here simply to illus- 
trate the text above, and, historically, the Cardinal's ambitious and 
intriguing character, which was in fact the character of a true church- 
man where ambitious, — profligately so. 

The Pope is my creation, hence my creature. 

For he sees not, weak man, that not of love, 

But for my ends, I help'd to heave him up. 

35.— P. 326. Wrought by the Duchess and a Jewish hag Confeder- 
ate in her sorceries^ etc.] See Appendix II., y. 1576. 

3G.— P. 328. 'Waiter brings Vvinc and glasses, is paid and retires.] 



364 NOTES TO 

But to keep up the life and variety of the picture in the bad-ground, he 
mores ahout in the discharge of his functions, carrying flasks etc. to 
the different tahles. — The Stage requires hints of this kind, but I am 
sorry to think is not likely to observe them. 

37. — P. 331. JToi Cini's surgery — ] Ciui was the Cardinal's physician. 

38.— P. 332. Whose lightning, Inirtkd by the lion's cub, etc.] Or, 
for tlie Stage : 

Whose liglitning, hurl'd by Peter Leoncil, 
Whom men call Cardinal Farnese's son, 
Frightens the confines with its devious blaze. 
"Lion's cub" is an allusion to the name Lioncillo (leonccllo.) 

This miscreant was actually at tlie head of the largo number of men 
named in the text. The historian tells us, that brigandage and assas- 
sination had come to be considered knightly service. As now-a-days 
in Italy the Church has been, from political motives or from indiffer- 
ence to the public welfare, the great supporter of such wretches, so in 
those times it was the Church-feudatories chiefly that had them in 
sei-vice. See Apixnd. II. y. 1580, IF 2, — also y. 1575, IT 2. As men 
above the vulgar herd joined these blood-bands, the language at least 
attributed to the assassins in the text is not greatly beyond their 
degree, whatever may be thought of their sentiments. 

39. — P. 332. They put wise MachiaveUi to the rack—] This was 
nearly a century before. Machiavelli died in 1527, sixty years before 
the time of the Scene. But the condition of things was not much 
changed from that of his troubled day, and his was a name not easily 
to be forgotten, any more than that of " Antichrist" (Clement VII.) 

40. — P. 337. Sign.] For tlie Stage, commence : " Donna Virginia 
absent etc. ? " 

41.— P. 338. Then seriously.] Omit to "my well-loviug spouse," 
and read the passage : 



BIAXCA CAPELLO 365 



Then seriously, thus. My loving spouse 
Seem'd eic. 
After which, make the hist two lines of the part : 

In the bhie hangings of tiie SilvcrM Room, more plcas'd 
To glad etc. 

43.— P. 339. Who has not seen — ] Oiuit to " It is said," ninth line 
below, reading the verse : 

To cloud the unwary brain. 'Tis freely said. 
Then omit, from "Did your Grace,"' thirty-one lines, reading thus, 
from the commencement of the alteration : 
And made your parting mournful. 

V/jy. T<it I doubt 
The Duchess' heart eic. 

Or in tine, omit, in the performance, the entire Scene, which was 
written merely to interpose time between the revelation of Malacuor's 
design and its perpetration. But our English Stage (as I have else- 
where had occasion to remark) sets time and space at defiance ; and 
the accustomed audience rarely protests against any violation of 
probability that saves them from fatigue. 



ADDITION TO NOTE 18. 

The influence of a family of wealth will depend greatly upon its numbers and 
Its ramifications. Galluzzi, as an evidence of the potency of the Medici, records this 
fact, that even after the pestilence of 134S, there were no less than fifty males of 
that House surviving. Introd. xi. AVithout this numerical preponderance, it 
may be questioned whether, notwithstanding their riches and their talents, their 
ambition could have made head against the determined opposition of their rivals 
and of the better lovers of their country. 

Of th^ Capelli, Bern. Segni, who wrote under Francesco, particularizes the am- 
bassador Carlo, mentioned in the text {Act. I. Sa. IV.), who, he tells us, raised in 
Florence a monument to his horse, wbich was standing in his, the historian's day. 
Storie Fior. vol. i. ed. Milan, (1805, in S") p. 225. We may suppose the Car- 
dinal Grand-duke, in his anxiety to remove every object that might recall the 
memory of Bianca {Append. II. prope fin.), ordered this monument, whatever it 
was, to be destroyed. Another Capello (A'incent) is mentioned by the same his- 
torian as being General of the Venetians. lb. ii. 151. 



APPENDICES 



The following observations, intended at the time as the sole appendix 
to the play, loere written six years after the completion of the latter, 
when I had forgotten that I had so fully illustreded in my text every 
pafticidar that hears upon the story, as to render any comment or ex- 
Xjlanation needless. Still, as a brief analysis of the historic question 
involved, they may not be uninteresting to the general reader. 

The footnotes are of the date of the transcription. 



For many of the incideuts, and even for the groundwork or sug- 
gcstire type of some of the characters in Blanca Capello, I am largely 
indebted to the romance of the same name by A. G. Meissner {Leipz. 
in 16to, 1784), who probably obtained his particulars from the collec- 
tion of Celio Malespini of Verona, Pdrt. II. Nov. 84, which I have not 
seen, but find particularized by Galluzzi as conspicuous among several 
written on Bianca's fortunes. (1) 

(1) Granducato, ii. p. 85. The historian spealjs of Mondragone and his wife 
as intermediary, in the romance, between the Grand-dulce and Bianca, but, with 
his usual inconsiderate or malevolent bias, onl3' to cast a slur upon the latter by 
remarking that the Dulie had found no need of go-betweens. Francesco might 
have, and, with still more likelihood, would have found the need, in his position, 
even were Bianca the " vile seducer " that Galluzzi and his copyists make her. 



S6S BIANCA CAPELLO 



The character of Bianca will always perhaps be a subject of historical 
doubt. The weight of authority is against her. She was probably 
weaker than I have made her (2); but I do not believe she was de- 
praved or grossly criminal. The hi.si orian of the Grand-duchy of Tus- 
cany has spared no pains to render her atrocious. His large work, 

But that is not the point. 3Iond>'agone is introduced by that very name, and 
with his wife, in that very function, by Sleissner. He is the Malocuore of the 
Tragedy. 

In V<.o%co^'s> Italian KovclhU, vol. III. (Lond. in S°. ISSG), some specimens 
are given of Celio, but not tlie ttory of Eianca. Celio Malcspini, ■nlio held, 
we are told, the post of Secretary to Francesco, is supposed to have begun 
writing his numerous little novels soon after 15T5. Eoscoe translates after the 
edition in 4to. Yenezia 16C9. " In many instances,'' he saj's (Introd. ibi,) " the 
meniion of persons and of particular times and places, is introduced. It is_thus 
he alludes to Bianca Cappello, afterwards consort of Francesco de' Medici, grand 
duke of Tuscany, whose nuptials were celebrated in 1579, and are very minutely 
described by the novelist." — It will depend upon the time wlien his novel was 
written and the place where published whether the whole story is told by Celio or 
not. If the above-mentioned edition was the first, we may well siijipose it, for the 
•Cardinal Grand-duke died in that j'ear, and the volume it will be seen bears the 
imprint of Venice. — Meissner would seem to refer to some unedited memoir, 
some private scandalous chronicle, as the chief source of his materials. " Jenes 
terufne MMUuskript von der geheimen Geschichte des Hauses Medizes, welches 
Orrery nutzte, und worauf Sansovino, nebst noch manchem anderm baute, mag 
allerdings f;r den wahren Historiker und Biographen uichtzulinglich sicher seyn ; 
fiir den Ilalb-Roman hat es eine trefllAe Eigenschaft, — Interesse. " Vorerinn. 
Was this done to conceal his obligations to the Italian romancer? 

(2) See subnote on p. 3G0 sq. Bonaventuri was killed in 1570. The Duchess 
Joanna died in 1578. In all that interval, a widow, besieged by the passionate 
assiduities of a royal lover, and surrounded by courtly examples both of unchas- 
tity and of the inditTerence with which it was regarded, in an age of very general 
profligacy, she would have been indeed a Penelope (as IsahellJ. calls her in 
mockery,) — no, more — if she had not yielded. But there are two sides to the 
story of Penelope as well as of Bianca, and some ancient writers have made the 
wife of Ulysses the common mistress of all her suitors. Cs. App. II, note 5. 



APPEXDIX I. 369 



■n'ritten expressly to glorify the diicliy and its petty sovereigns, (3) 
enters into details which waken more than incredulity, and few 
thougjitful persons can rise from his discolored and distorted portrait- 
ui'e of the fair Venetian and his carefully toned miniature of the 
Cardinal Ferdinand, without a conviction that the pictures in their 
general effect might change places. 

The Cardinal, a false brother and a bad man(4), in a family where 
miu-der and incest were familiar crimes, had cast a longing eye on the 
grand-ducal crown, which the physical infirmity of his brother's 
spouse made it more than probable would one day be his own. When 
Bianca, by no other means that I can see or suppose, than the magic 
of her beauty and her manners, ascended the throne as the legitimate 
successor of Joanna, all his schemes seemed to be blown to the winds. 

(3) And written under tlie patronage and by the command, as he himself ex- 
presses it, of the then reigning monarch, a younger son of the House of Austria, 
whose lofty name he puts upon the very title-page, withholding reverently his own. 
The favor of this prince (Peter-Leopold, afterwards Emperor of Austria.) would 
certainly not be forfeited by an endeavor to blacken the character of the Arch- 
duchess' rival. 

And here I may as well state, in preparation for the whole of the Appendix fol- 
lowing, that Galluzzi claims to have drawn his material exclusively from the 
Medicean Archives, . . '■'tutte estratte fedelivenie dalV Archivio Mediceo.'''' 
In the same brief adveitisement, liowever, he alludes to the existi nee of popular 
fallacies as to certain events, and tells us he enters into minuteness of detail there- 
in, for the very purpose of correcting these errors of belief and of tradition, — of 
course by the Archives. Kow, are the Archives infallible? Are they, in fact, 
entire? or in their entirety, veritable? Would the Cardinal have been liliely to 
leave anything that would tend to inculpate him in the matter of Eianca and the 
Grand-duke, or not to give prominence as well as permanence to inventions which 
would account morally for his detestation of the former, and palliate, with most 
men, the atrocity of his unchristian and unprincely efforts to Idacken for ever her 
memory ? lie had the power to tamper with the Archives, and he was not a man 
to leave it unused. Coilsult, in Appendix II., Note 12, also 19. 

(4) See below, in Note 15, what Sisraondi says of him. 

16* 



SYO BIANCA CAPELLO 



And when finally, as Grand-duclicss, she was about to become a mo- 
ther, he resolved to rid himself by one blow of both obstacles to his 
ambition. Bianca's great weakness, as well as doubtless one of her 
principal attractions, seems to have been a benevolent amiability. 
She. did her best at all times to reconcile her lord with the Cardinal, 
whose profligate intrigues and importunate avarice had alienated his 
dncal brother. And she succeeded only too Avell. The Cardinal is 
invited to a bancpiet. He refuses to partake of the blancmange which 
was his iuviter's favorite dish, and when both Bianca and the Grand- 
duke, after eating freely of it, are seized at the very table with pangs 
that denoted poisoning, he prevented all assistance from being ren- 
dered to either, had them shut up indeed in a disfurnished and gloomy 
chamber of the villa, and took measures even before their death to 
secure possession of the fortresses and put down by armed force any 
attempts that should be made to prevent his becoming master of the 
city. (5) Proclaiming loudly that the Dake and Duchess had attempted 
to poison him and by mistake had swallowed their own bane, he re- 
tracted this absurd invention by declaring there was no poison in the 
case at all, that the Duke and Duchess had both died of a surfeit. (G) 
As this story was more absurd, if possible, than the other, since the 
deaths were nearly simultaneous, and the preceding symptoms had 
indicated some sudden and violent action upon the vitals, he had the 
bodies opened. Now at that day science had not advanced so far as 
to make the detection of the secret administration of poisons, espe- 
cially if of a vegetable origin, in all cases possible. Indeed even at tho 
present time, it is known, and we have authority for the assertion, 
that there are venene substances whose operation cannot be traced 
after death. (7) And this must be particularly the case, to oeulTir in- 

(5) There was no hesitancy on his part. The commander of the citadel at Log- 
horn showing some unwillingness to acknowledge his authority, the Cardinal had 
him hung. See Appendix II., Note 24. 

(6) See Appendix II., y. 1587, second paragrapli. 

(7) I have mislaid a newspaper quotation from a lecture bj- our townsman Prof. 



APPENDIX I. 371 



spection, where the poison has been slow in its elTects, because, in the 
first place, of its probable elimination ft'om the system, (8) and, second- 
ly, of the liability to confound its indications with those of natural dis- 
ease. Nov/, if the account which Galluzzi gives of the tertian fever 
with its vehement t]ilrst{9) which seized the Duke and Duchess so sin- 

Doremus, beaiino; directly upon this point. But it ivill be sufficient to cite the 
follow ing, in respect to metallic poisons, ^vhich can be traced : — 

... " It is known, that three or four grains of arsenic, a quantity insiifflcienl 
to 2)>'ochtc6 any fitriking local changes, will destroy a person under all the usual 
symptoms of poisoning by this substance. The same may be said of corrosive 
sublimate : — three or four grains of tliis poison icould stiffice to lill an adult; 
and yet, h-om this small quantity, ^Ae local clianges wonld be barely percep- 
tib/e." Tatlor, On Poisons in relat. to Med. Jur. &c. (Phil. ed. 8°. 1848) p. 27. 
And ag.iin : " That death should ever take place in poisoning, without any physical 
changes being produced on the body, is not more wonderful than that it should 
occur undel^attacks of tetanus or hydrophobia, in which diseases, as is well known, 
no post-mortem appearances are met with sufficient to account for their rapidly 
fatal course." (Jb^ 

But this is still more complete : 

. . . "To take arsenic as an example, — if the dose has been small, and the 
per.son. 7ias survived the effects for a certain period, it is not likely tliat the 
jioison uill be detected in the soft organs of the body. The deceased may have 
survived long enovghfor the iclwle of the poison to be ecepdlcd. According to 
Eriand, after ten, iicclce, orffteen days, not a particle of arsenic or tartarizcd 
antimony will be discovered in the bodies of animals poisoned ))y either of these 
substances. {lb. p. 80.) See further on same page. 

Q'he subject is resumed in Append. II., Note 22. 

(S) As I have shown in Note 7: Briand gives ten, ticelve, Ani fifteen days for the 
complete disappearance of the poison. Orfila himself (Traite de Toxicol, b' ed. 
Paris, in 8°.; t. l.p. 427) assigns from twelve to fifteen. The Grand-duke sur- 
vived eleven and liianca ten day.i, — according to the Archives. 

(9) See, iu Appendix II., y. 15S7, and footnote. — The Cardinal Ippolito de' 
Medi';i was affected similarly, and di^d after four days' illness ; that is, according 
to Varchi ; but six, as I compute it ; for he was attacked on the 5th of August and 
expired on the lOlh, (1535.) The moment after he had eaten the broth in which 



3T2 . MAXCA CAPELLO 



gularly, and so conveniently for the. Cardinal, within two days of each 
other, and terminated, with an interval of a single day, in the death 

tlie poison was conveyed, the Cardinal began to suffer. lie grew rapidly worse, 
" and went on wasting little by little and having conilmially a "cery sliglit and 
slowfc've?'.'''* (Stor. Fior. v. 131, 132.) lie was poisoned, as some supposed, by 
Lis cousin Duke Alexandcr(a), as others, by Pope Paul IIL(b) That most fear- 

(a) The most probable hypothesis. And if what Scgni appears incUned to believe, aUhough he cites the 
story merely as a rumor of the day, be true, viz., that Ifpolito had previously tried to blovr up the Duke with 
gunpowder {vol. ii. p. 65), the latter might, if the rumor were current before the death of Ippolito, have satis- 
fied his own conscience by the eupposition of its truth, if afterward, he might himself have originated it as 
an offset to his own atrocity. One scarcely knows what to hold to, in so contradictory accounts; but suih a 
crime, besides that it is plausible to attribute the attempt to the known political enemies of Alessandro, who 
were many of them zealous but not over-scrupulous friends of liberty, one of whom finally effected his assas- 
Bination, such a crime is inconsistent with the character of the young Cardinal, who, though passionately 
ambitious, and openly resentful of the injustice done him in the elevation of his junior, Alexander, had 
nothing in his impetuous, candid, and generous character which allows ns to impute to him the design of a 
coward and a murderer. Unfit to be a churchman, partial, almost ostentatiously, to arms and to the chase 
(see Appendix Ill.)i he led the life of a gay but not dissipated prince, and died, according to Segni himeelf, 
with unaffected piety and with the modest charity of a Christian— as a Christian should be. This local 
historian tells us, very differently from Varthi, that the ill-fated young man expired in thiif^cn hours after 
the attack, and that two of his friends died subsequently ; for, according to Stgni, instead of the Cardinal's 
being indisposed and in bed when the poisoned broth was brought to him, he and his frienda were sufpinff 
together gaily at Itri. — Sui h is history ; Varchi, writing under Cosmo, and Segni under his successor ; yet, 
in so tragical an incident, varying both as to the inception and the termination of the affair ! It is, that^ 
in such a case. Rumor, never perhaps single-voiced, has more than the usual number of tongues. The latter 
writer continues : The friends of the Duke ascribed the murder to Pope Paul, "come qucgli che, desidcroso 
de' gran benefici pcsseduti da lui per dare al Card. Farnesc, 1' avcsse in questo modo fatto morire." Some 
indeed ascribed the event to the pestilential air (as Bianca and Francesco's death was attributed to inter- 
mittent fever.) Scgni considers it the truest and most certain report, which lays it at the door of Duke 
Alexander. (lb. 63, sq.) 

(b) Alessandro da Farncse, Cardinal d* Ostia, — who siicceeded Clement VII. in that chair whose existence 
Btill remains, but will probably not much longer, the opprobrium of human sense and of manhood, and should 
make a Christian blush to throw imposture in the teeth of Mohammedans, — the so-called seat of St. Peter^ 
who never put a round in it. According to Varchi (an historian of rare ingenuRusness) Paul III. was a 
finished dissembler, concealing his real vices by outward decorum and sanctity. (76.69.) It is likely; it 
belonged to his profession and his place. He died, this man who could be suspected in his old age of causirg 
a cowardly assassination, to swell by misappropriation, not to say robbery, the state and splendor of his 
reprobate bastard son' and of his grandchildren (see again Varchi in loc. cit. 131, 5. The detail, after his 
faulty but interesting manner, is curious. Also, from p. 2(^0 to end of the vol. ) — he died, this Vicegerent of 
Christ, with the words : // mj/ family had not ruled me, I should be stainless. Everybody remembers what 
Hildebrand's last words were, what Cardinal Wolsey's, what perhaps those of a dozen gallows-birds, as well 
as princes of the Church, have been. When a man has lied and dissembled all his life, he w ill not be likely 
to want a good name after death, if an additional falsehood can buy it for him. The vulgar suferstiticii 

• It is useful to my vindication of the character of Bianca, to note here another striking historlal discrep- 
ancy. This scapegrace, who, according to Oalluzzi, had all the vices of Duke Valentine [Caesar Borgia] icith- 
out his talents (Intr. liv.), and of whom Varchi tells in detail that revolting personal outrage which ended in 
the death of the gentle Bishop of Fano (S. F. ap.Jinem), is described by Segni (an intelligent as wrll as honest 
writer) as not without learning and well able to behave himself (/t"&. 13-.— ». iii. p. 14.) Again, on the other 
hand, his father, Paul III., who, Eli-like, encouraged his profligacy by his criminal indiflerLncc or impolitic 
leniency, was, according to the first-named author, a man of rare talents and of extraordinary sagacity ! (lb. 
liii.) I wish to enforce on the reader's sense these contiuual dissonances in judgment and in fact-record, 
and must be pardoned for a little irrelevancy. 



APPENDIX I. 373 



of both, be correct(lO), the former was eleven days suffering, and the 
latter ten, and the difficulty of detection would be very greatly in- 
creased. Besides, these investigators, if they were such (for there is 
no mention of anything more than the opening of the bodies and a 

fill, because least evitable, mode of assassination, which hi the beginmng of the 
century had flourished under the auspices and with the cooi)eration of the Holy 
See, was still horribly familiar to the great. Francesco himself was suspected of 
practising it, and Cosmo was, as mentioned in the text, accounted " a subtle 
poisDn-mixer." (See Appendix II. ad init.) Varchi has several stories of the 
kind, as e. (/., besides that of the Cardinal Ippcilito, the remarkable one of the 
beautiful Luisa Strozzi, wife of Luigi Capponi, poisoned by her own relatives on 
mere suspicion of the Hkelihood of her falling a victim to the libertinism of 
Duke Alessandro (v. 104-106), but according to Segni by the Duke himself, be- 
cause she had refused to yield to his desires(e). Storie Fior. I. 7^. (vol. II. p. 
C5, sq. ed. Mil. 1805, in %''.) 

(10) But I have argued that the record of the Medicean Archives cannot in the 
story of Biaiica be accepted as correct and is not likely to be even truthful. Kote 
(8) : also various places in Append. II. It is said that in the Introduction of the 
work cited in Append. II. Note 4, Miss Strickland, on the authority of Evelyn, ac- 
cuses Burnet of destroying historical autographs. Yet the Bishop of Sarum was 
both a good man and a virtuous prelate. The Cardinal Grand-duke was neither, 
even in the eyes of Sismondi, and he hated Bianca with a hatred which he took 
no pains to conceal. Append. II. pr.Jinetn. 

which believes that in the death-hour nothing can be littered but the truth is a convenient one, nor will either 
Paul III. be the last vicious personage, nor Elizabeth Surratt the last convict, whose filial declaration will be 
accepted by a partial historian, or be availed of by a cunning barrister, as evidence of innocence. 

(c) Yet Segni, whose honesty as a writer is unquestioned, claims for such a monster, who he tells us (ii p 
^0) corrupted even the sacred virgins and committed in the very sanctuary (like the diabolical Pope John 
XII., or the corsair-pope, the 23fd of that pontifical name) " assai vergogne nefande ", both abilities and 
good disfositions, and attributes ((Ais unphilosophically, if not absurdly) his immeasurable licentiousness to 
evil couiiscls. It had been more rational to ascribe it to the gift of his mother, aided by that profligate in 
purple the Cardinal Giulio — or by the Cardinal's coachman. But in conclusion he admits, that he was '• uni- 
versally hated ", because, notwithstanding his even-handed justice, high courage, and resolute will, " he had 
withal acquired the name of cruel, of voluptuous and impious, to such a degree that he had become an object 
of disgust to everybody." (lib. 8®. pTOpeinit.) All of which furnishes one of many instances of the diffi- 
culty which attends the search for truth in history. 

I may add, as being of interest and not ungerman to my text, what Segni has to say of Alexander's illegiti- 
macy. It appears that a third party, as I have just hinted, might have put in a claim for priority with the 
two Medici. . . ".Mcssandro de' Medici, il quale era figlio naturale di Lorenzo, nato d' una schiava chiamata 
Anna, la quale avendo avuto ancora che fare con Giulio Priore di Capua e poi Papa Clemente, ed ancora con 
un veiturate, che tenevano in casa quando erano ribelli, era inccrto di cht fosse figliuolo." ^t. i. ed. cit. p. 1G5. 



3 74 BIANCA CAPELLO 



simple inspection of the viscera,) would understand it was tlie Car- 
dinal's pleasure they should not find anything to confirm suspicion, 
and it would have been a miracle of independence and moral courage 
had they dared under the circumstances to disappoint him. (11) Here 
the infamy of this vile churchman does not end. Giving orders for 
the sumptuous burial of his brother, he had Biauca thrown upon the 
common heap of bodies of the abandoned poor and vicious. This 
might have been done to confirm in men's minds the opinion he had 
diligently disseminated of her utter worthlessness and of his disgust 
and hatred of an adventuress and " sorceress " who had dishonored 
temporarily his family. But thei-e was something more than this in 
his conduct ; it evinced a rage that was savagely vindictive ; the rage 
of a bad man who had been more than disappointed, who was con- 
scious that he had betrayed himself and hated the involuntary posses- 
sor of his degrading secret. In short I believe, that, as I have painted 
him, and the romancers before me, the Cardinal had oflVred love to 
his brother's wife (it was quite in the mode of the family) and to his 
dismay been rejected. The indications of this doubly criminal passion 
can not have escaped historians. The Capello family, one of the rich- 
est and most distinguished noble houses in Venice, was as good as 
the Medici in its origin, and the Venetian Republic in its desire to 
exalt Bianca (which it would not have sliown — despite the insinu- 
ation of Botta( 12) — were her life inftinious) luid made her Queen of 

(11) In the case of tlie Cardinal Ijipolito, the body after ileatli became discolored, 
and, on opening it, the omentum (caul) was found corroded. But his household 
were interested in finding the traces of poison. Tliose who perfoj-med the Vike 
operation on Francesco and Bianca were interested in not finding sueh evidence, 
and the examination on their part was probably one for form, as on the part of 
the Cardinal Duke it was a challenge to the siisiiicion of his enemies. See Ap- 
pendix II. Note 22. 

(12) "Who, as an historian, should have had knowledge enough of humanity to 
understand what was going on everywhere around him. A change of fortune for 
the better obliterates at once, or at least veils ovei»for the time being, all previous 



APPENDIX I. 3 7 5 



Cyprus. Thus put on a par with the Grand-duke, wliat plea could the 
Cardhial have found for making that immeasurable distinction between 
them after their common deatli ?(13) In the rage of his hatred, this 
prince of the Christian Church fimiished one of the very best facts in 
evidence of a criminal passion whose repulse had outraged his ex- 
travagant pride and v.'ounded past cure a selflovcwliicli v.'as the most 
vital part of his spirit. 

Like Philip II. of Spain, and, I may add, Henry VIII. of England, 
the Grand-duke Ferdinand of Tuscany is represented with smooth face 
and fair and effeminate features. They were the mask of a character 
which had the revengeful malice, the remorseless cruelty, the treach- 
erous cunning and hypocrisy, and the immeasurable ambition of a bad 
and masculine woman. (1 1) 

And yet this man made a wi^e, a politic, and even, it is said, just 
sovereign. (15) The case is not singidar either in Evn-ope or in the 

disadvantages, and wlien Botta sneers at tlie eagerness witli wliicli l<otli tlie 
Capello family and tlie Venetian Republic made ha^te to acknow edge and to 
glorify the adventuress as Grand-duchess whom as a fugitive they had proscribed 
and proclaimed for punishment, he forgets one of the commonest of the traits of 
the human character. ^VouM he not himself have foiuul splendor in the risen sun 
if its rays fell on liis stand-place, or would he have got out of its warmth in winter? 
The dogs are wiser, and the moth, though it rushes to its own destruction, has a 
better instinct. I aitlrm that Eianca's family acted in both instances precisely as 
every other family wi.uld have acted, and were in neither position mean or un- 
reasonable. 

(13) If it be said, because he lielJ her to be wortliless, the " pessima Bianca " lie 
afterwards declared her {v. Ajipend. II. ap.Jin), then his brother should have 
shared the same fate, and their common father before them. Where w-as Isabella 
buried? 

(14) All of which traits happen to have been the moral features, u;;ly to de- 
formity, of the Medici iu general. 

(15) f ismondi says, and well, of Ferdinand : •' lie had as much talent for gov- 
ernment as one can liave without virtue, and as much pride as one can preserve 
■B ithout nobleness of soul." Rcj-). It. (Paris, 18-10, in 8".) t. x. p. 227. We have seen (p. 



376 BIAKCA CAPELLO 



East. The Mogul Emperor, Aurungzebc, attained the throne on which 
he sat so nobly, by the murder of more than one brother. 

August IG, 18G1. 



II. 



Being extracts from memoranda taken (luring the jweparation for 
Acts III., IV., and V., with additions and comments suhsequenllij 
made. 

Cosmo bore the reputation of being a subtle maker of poisons ; 
Y. 1574. and it is certain he endeavored to destroy Strozzi by them. 

But Strozzi did the same for him. Galluz. Granduc. ii. 185. 
The historian's language is positive : " E certo che egli tcnto di usarne 
contro lo Strozzi." Yet observe the high character which he gives to 
Cosmo, after this charge and the assertion that his criminal laws, 
founded on the Spanish maxims then prevalent in all Italy, xoere ab- 
solutely destitute of every sentiment of humanity, and "egli venerava lo 
istruzioni e i consigli del suoi congiunti Vice Re Don Pietro di 
Toledo(l) e Duca d' Alva, che furono i due piu sanguinari Ministri 
che abbino conculcato 1' umanita " (ih.) ; and tliea see to what amounts 
the like charge against Francsco. Slsniondi, who says that Cosmo 

8T3, subnote c) that even-handed justice is assignel to that infamous profligate, 
Duke Alexander. Here are the very words of Segni, and in detail : " le quali [se. le 
faccende pubbliche] . . . eg'.i amministrava da se stesso con grand' anhno e con 
niolta risolnzione, ed avrebbe soddisfatto in gran parte alia gUistizia, perche la 
faceva al piccolo come al grandc, ed udiva volentieri le povere genti, se i piaceri 
giovenilinoir avessonodistrattopur troppo da quesli consigli, ec." Stor. Fior. lib. 
6°. t. ii. p. 19. 

(1) This D. rietro di Toledo, Viceroy of Naples, confessed in 1550 to a Secretary 
of Duke Cosmo's, that, after his possession of the government, there perished in 
the single city of Naples by the hands o( jusV.qc eiffhieL-n, tlwumiid 2)crsons. 
Granduc. Tnirod. p. 2. 



APPENDIX II, 377 



had established a manufactory of poisons in his palace under the pre- 
tence of making chemical experiments, (the passage is quoted under 
y. 1578,) is more consistent, although we shall see that in his summing- 
up of the character of Francesco, he conti'adicts not only Galluzzi, hut 
certain facts which do not depend upon the allegations of historians. 
And Botta, we shall find, does just the same. See note 20. 

A year after the death of Cosmo. — The conspiracy against 

1575. Cosmo, and for which Pandolfo Pucci had atoned with his life in 
15G0, was renewed against his successor, and by the son of this 

very Pucci, Orazio, whom the Grand-duke by numerous benefits had 
endeavored in vain to make forget his father's merited execution. 
[Here again Galluzzi gives a trait that does not agree with his picture 
of Francesco. See under 1578.] The Cardinal at Eome learning of the 
plot informed Francesco of it [which Galluzzi considers generous, al- 
though, as the conspiracy was directed in the name of the ancient 
liberty against the whole reigning family, he was to have been one of 
the victims,] and advised the arrest of Pucci. About twenty youths 
in all were complicated, and the confiscations amounted to 30,000 
ducats. This severity and the fiscal exactions ii-ritated the people 
and rendered hostile all the connections of tlie young nobles. Granduc. 
ii. 248. 

Masnade [bands of predatory soldiers, brigands or assassins ac- 
cording to circumstances, and serving as instruments both of rapine 
and revenge] increased fearfully ; the nobles having them in pay for 
their feuds and vengeance. Ih. 2G5. — Sismondi writes in relation to 
the extent of brigandage after 15G3 (the year of Bianca's arrival in 
Florence) : Alfonso Piccolomiui, Duke of Monte Marciano, and Marco 
Sciarra, in Romagna, the Abbruzzi, and the Campagna of Rome, com- 
manded several thousands of men. Eepui. Ital. t. 10, p. 218 sq. 

Tlic administration of the criminal laws frightened the innocent 

1576, as much as the guilty, and flattered the powerful with hopes of 
easily elucing them. " Quindi e die le risse, le prepotenze e gli 



378 BIANCA CAPELLO 



assassinamcuti crebbero a dismisura." In eighteen moullis from 
the death of Cosmo, there were counted in Florence alone one hun- 
dred and eighty cases of deaths and wounds by assault. Granduc. ii. 
205. 

Don Pietro de' Medici profligate and depraved. His beautiful wife 
Eleonora di Toledo imitated him. Her brother refused to listen to his 
complaints, and prevented theii" reaching Don Garzia her father. The 
Spanish chivalry put the husband up to avenge his dishonor, and he 
murdered her by night, July 11, with repeated blows of his poniard, at 
Caffagiolo, an ancient villa of the Medici [lb. 2G7.) Her death at- 
tributed to disease of the heart. 

Isabella, both beautiful and accomplished. Favored the amours of 
her brother with Bianca. Duke, her husband, especially jealous of his 
own kinsman Troilo Orsini ; strangles her with a cord at his villa of 
Correto on the morning of the ICth July. Court informed that she 
fell dead in the arms of her attendants while washing lier head {ib. 
2G9.) — Botta tells us that Troilo himself killed with his own hand tlie 
Grand-duke's page, betv/cen v\'hom and this licentious princess there 
was a mutual passion. The picture given by this last modern his- 
torian, of the two royal ladies, D. Pietro and, united with the godly 
group, Duke Cosmo, is done with that relish with which, he seems to 
paint extreme depravity in high places, sparing no feature, and height- 
ening without mercy the ugliness of all. Let me make a copy of the ori- 
ginal, as certain touches will not bear transferring to an English panel. 
'•'•Eleonora. . '•giovanegraziosaedimaravigliosabellezza. Corsero 
romori, e ne fu anche fatto fede dalle cronache contemporance, che 
Cosirao, invaghito di tanta bellezza, con scellei-ato amore si fosse con 
esso lei mescolato, per modo che gravida di se alle nozze del figliuolo 
lamandasse. D. Pietro poi oltraggiava i due sessi, 1' altro abbaiulonando 
c del proprio abu?auao.(2) Infamc tresche crano queste, ne anco 

(2) Cosmo, who affected a regard for morality and for religion, or betler bad a 
politic respect for both, enacted laws of great severity against this revolting vice 
and against the sin of blasphemy. (It is Segni who classes them thus together in 



ArrENDix II. 379 



celate : il pub'olico lo sapeva, s' aygiungcva lo scandalo al misfatto. 
Pietro Trequentava i bci giovani ; Eleouora presto 1' orrecliio a chi la 
vagheggiava." Stor. d' Ital. Libr. 14°. (Milaiio, in 12°, 1S43. t. iii. 
p. 166.) " Delizia della Corte e quasi fiore cli Firenze per gioventu, 
bellezza, grazia, ornamento di poesia, perizia di miisica, moltiplicita 
di favelle era donna Isabella de' Medici, figliuola del Duca Cosimo. 
Ma tali sorti di flori nella Medicea Corte sifcontaminavano e si lasciavano 
contaminare." [The reader •will please recall wliat I observed of 
Bianca, surrounded by and inhaling such an atmosphere of moral cor- 
ruption. But in the instance of Isabella the " flower" shriveled and 
blackened by no outward influence of the elements ; it had destruction 
at its core. The egg of the caterpillar was depoated before the germ 
had begun to develop itself on the parent plant. It was the pernicious 
blood of the Medici in Cosmo, and haply, on the mother's side, of the 
Toledo. (3) Observe what follows.] "Porto la fama die Cosimo 

the same sentence.) But the law fell into disuse from the indifference of the 
magistrates, — perhaps from their knowledge to what degree this unmentionable 
bestiality prevailed among the highest order. Pandolfo Pucci was one of those 
who thus sinned against nature, and did it without any particular concealment 
•(^^ifuceiatamenfe.''') It seems he knew what to calculate upon. Through the 
influence of his brother Ruberto, lately made Cai-dinal by Paul III., he was par- 
doned. But Giov. Eandini, for the same classical atrocity, was kept in a dungeon 
at the bottom of a tower for nineteen years, — rather, as Segni thinks and well, for 
Ills abusive words of the Duchess Madama Leonora than for the crime. Stor. 
Fior. ed. cit. ii. 272. 

(3) Cosmo, who, according to honest Segni, was censurable for the same sub- 
servience to the Emperor(a) that Cal'.uzzi accuses Francesco of towards the King 

(a) " Non faceva altro chR intralcnerai per amico e per buon suddito (per parlar meglio) dell' Imperadore." 
(ii. 255.) The language, in its sense, not tone, i9 forcihlc. — So also in the matter of his nuptials, this pattern 
Cosmo, — who, by the by, Segni, who must have been aware of the niceties and morality recounted in an after 
age by Botta, tells us " ncl viver sue era molto onesto," (i4. 270,) — celel)rated them with great inagnilicence, 
although a famine was prevailing at the time, occasioned chiefly by his own avarice, — " cagionata dal teu- 
porale, e molto piudall' aver r anno innanzi il Duca dato la tratta a'grani, de' quali cavi) scudi CO.OOO, e 
secco tutti i granai del dominio." (K. 015, sq.) Thus in both these instances, of a degrading policy and an 
extravagance of pomp which mocked the necessities of his people, and Insulted their sufferings, the grcai 
Cosmo set the example which hie son and successor is reproached for having followed. That this was so does 
not excuse the latter, but it makes the censure of the historians in his precisely parallel case if not malevolent, 
yet altogether partial. And it is for this reason that I have cited these instances of selfish and ignoble error 



380 BIANCA CArELLO 



stcsgo troppo piu 1' auiasse che a patlro si couvcniva." {lb. 167.) 
Who has not heard the story of the artist, who from his scaffolding 

beheld The Cardinal's words of soliloquy in Act IV. Sc. 4 are 

gloss enough in English. 

For thirteen years the Duke had been enamored of Bianca, with a 
passion growing every day more ardent. Nothing too good for her : 
palaces, delightful gardens, etc., etc. — his very brothers paying her 
court — sole dispenser of favors. A Jewish woman said to assist her 
In incantations and the composition of philters to increase the Duke's 
passion. But let me quote, as I wish to examine this point in full. 
After indulging in the expression " orgogliosa impudeuza della Cap- 
pello" {haughty imimdence of the Capello,) — to which on the suc- 
ceeding page he adds NacJc perfidy ("ncra perlidia,") Galluzzi pro- 
ceeds in this fashion: "La Bianca, cui troppo premeva sempre piii 
accenderlo e mantenerlo costante, non risparraiava veruno di quelli 
artifizi che son comuni alle femmine del suo carattere, senza omettcre 
V uso dei filtri, dei prestigi, e di tutto cw che la crcdulita donnesca(-t) 
ha saputo imaginare d' inganni in tal genere ; una donna Giudea era 
la fedele miuistra di questi incantesimi, e il pubblico che imaginava i 

of Spain, espoused at his suggestion, instead of tlie Arcliducliess lie aspired to, 
Leonora di Toledo, sister of that very Viceroy of Naples whose atrocious in- 
humanity is cited in note (1). She brought him a son or a daughter every year. 
As D. Pietro mai'ried the daughter of D, Garzia, who was brother to this lady, it 
follows that in the person of his wife he poniarded also his cousin-german. 

(4) The E. of Bothwell had certainly nothing womanish in his composition, 
though much that was devilish, yet we find him on his death-bed making a confes- 
sion of having used " witchcraft " {prestigi) and "sweet-water" (Jiltri) to excite 
the Queen's affections. See Jliss Strickland's Letters of Mary Q. of Scots, etc. 
Vol. III. I have been unable to procure a copy, and cite from a newspaper re- 
view of 1S43. Mary was the contemporary of Bianca. The credulity we might 
say was that of the age, did we not know what is going on in our own skeptical 
century, and in our matter-of-fact country, not to speak of France, where, succeed- 
ing to the spiritualism of Home, a common soldier of Jewish origin performs the 
miracles on sick and lame and blind attributed to Christ. 



APPENDIX II. 381 



pill stravaganti mezzi per escguirli conceplva semi^repm del orroreper il 
di lei perversa carattei^e." (lb. 271.) Now let us hear what Botta 
says : " Bianca Capello, nata al monclo per mostrare la potenza degli 
attrativi feimninili [observe throughout the parts I have itaUcized], 
e la laidezza di un uomo a cui era da Die comandato non solo di 
governare, [I cannot see that Heaven had anjlihing to do witlr it ; the 
government of the Medici was, as Botta himself has shown, an ab- 
solute usurpation founded in perfldj^ and corruption, and the family 
that administered it, from Alcssandro down, were mostly worthless as 
princes and despicable or detestable as men,] ma di edificare un 
popolo atto ad ogni gentil creanza, [Varclii, who knew them better, 
being of them, in the reign of Cosmo, has ascribed to the Florentines 
no such aptitude,] fuggiva nel 15G3, cc. Bella e spiritosa e di grazie 
moltiformi dotata (imperciocche o die scherzasse, o sopra se stesse^ o 
il leggiadro volto con semhianza di mestizia amiuvolasse, sempre ris- 
plendeva in lei un cotal lume di avvenenza luslngJdera, di vaghezza 
gldoiia, die V uom rapiva) avcva, ec." {id)i cit. p. 109.; Yet after this 
description of a beauty and grace that must have been all but irresist- 
ible and that he himself affirms transported eveivjhody, — a description 
which, if we may judge by one trait, the " vaghezza ghiotta" (dmrins 
that kindled appetite)., easily discernible in her portraits. (". App. III.), 
is a faithful, though a lovely picture, — he pretends to say she had re- 
course to philters and to incantations to increase the passion of a man 
not yet forty ! However, of that presently. — The historian, with his 
usually sarcastic and often terrible pen, tells us that their loves were 
shamelessly open. "-Non senlivano vergogna nell' amore : in fronte 
del popolo con modi scoperti il Principe il confessava, impudicizia cd 
iuipudeuza regnavano.(.5) Cosimo Tammoniva" a precious mon- 

(5) I ask again, if their loves were so impndeufly shamelers, how came it that, 
after the deatli of Joanna, Bi^ca was admitted to tlie palace under the plea of 
guardiansliip for the young princesses, and why the secret marriage ? These facts 
cannot be reconciled, as before observed (p. 360,) with open inipudicity.(a) — But 

(a) In that place, it is true, I expressed more than a doubt of my heroine's chastity in her widowhood. It 
seemed to me at the time incredible, that even the Cardinal in his "declaratory act" should have falsified 



882 BIANCA CAPKLLO' 



itor, even were there no Camilla ! {v. Botta's own words on p. 378), 

"la prlncipessa sposa piangeva" that is but supposition, a 

fancy family-pictui'e, though painted with an eye to natvu-e(G), "e 

Buppose they can ; suppose the Prince did indeed unveil his passion to the 
public gaze; when have princes done otherwise, in every hiad, and to our very 
day? In moral, or at least morality-boasting, England, the children of law- 
less royal love, whether gotten on a duchess or an actress, are ennobled, and the 
bend sinister or baton coupe of the Earl or Duke stands not in the way of lawful 
marshaling by pale or quarter with the proudest escutclieons. But in Itrdy ! and 
at that time! when half the petty thrones were fiileil by bastards, and where, 
not forty years before, the child of three fathers, begotten on a wanton household- 
drudge, was the first aclinowledged sovereign of the '•lUustrissima Casa"! 
GalimaUaii ! 

(6) Not because the princess-spouse bewept his infidelity, for she knew that 
offence was common with all princes, but because she felt it a reproach to her 
own ill-favored visage, its pallor, and her dwarfish form. The whole picture, in- 
cluding the monitions of the saintly Cosmo, is drawn from models uf the iuiasiu- 
ation, and is what the reader has been familiar with in the nursery : 

" In vain his father's kind aiivicp. 
In vain his mother's care," eta, 

I have no idea of apologizing for incontinence, much less adultery ; but I do m;iintain 
that had Francesco been guilty of nothing worse than seeking solace with the 
widow Bonaveuturi, he would be judged at least as leniently as his contemporaiy 
and posthumous son-in-law, that darling of all true hearts, the groat Henry IV. of 
France, who, but for his Minister, would have committed the sime folly as Fran- 
cesco (if in Francesco it was a folly to marry Eianca), and v/ho, liad ha not had 
that Minister, but a false and aspiring brother to shape for moa his reputation, 
might have come down to us in more questionable form, his vices all exaggerated, 
and his frank, generous and valiant heart shrunken under their swollen he:ip to a 
pitiful littleness. As it was, it is observable that the most mischievous aspersion 
of his character came from the pen of his blood-relation tiie Princess of Coirti.(a) 

the date as Weil as other particulars of D. Antonio's birtli. Bui wh^ I consider what appears to have been 
done in the account of the Duke and Bianca's illnfss, 1 set- no good reason why, in the very face of the peoi'lei 
that arch-maligncr should not misrepresent llie print of time in one rase as w.ll as in llie otlicr. Sec ('Jl); 
also EUlmotc to (G). 

(a) The handsome and talented Loulsa-M.irgarct of Lorraine (grandd.'.unli'.ir of that magnaniinnus and 
Taiianl captain, Francis of Lorraine, Duke of Guise) ir. her Uiitiiiro dcs Amours du fraud Akandrc, which 



APPE:Nr)TX ir. 383 



gli (Java esempio d' ogni vii'tu" what were tlioy ? She coukl not 

but of chastity, or she were as foul as her sister-iu-Iaw, who was nei- 
ther pallid, uor diminutive, nor ill-favored, to render chastity easy, 

'■'■ ma nulla giovava, perche la Bianca, col suo volto, non so se midehha 
dire angelica o diabolico, era piu forte del padre, della moglie, e di 
quanto il mondo pensasse o dicesse." (i&. 170, sq.) All of which is 
merely rhetorical. And now for the ab^d story of the philters, and 

told thus absurdly : " Oltre le grazie della ■persona And what were 

these pliyslcal attractions, besides which, etc. ? Beautiful and spiritual 
and endowed with manifold graces (these are his own words, above 
quoted,) — since, whether she was mirthful or grave, or clouded her 
elegant and charming visage with a semblance of sadness, there always 
shone out in her such a light of seductive attractions, of appetihleheauty, 

And who does not know what that very Minister, that virtuous Sully, wliose friend- 
Bhiii as well as administration honored both reciprocally, wlio does not know what 
he has told of the effect of Henry's amours, leLuUng him, as they do every man, 
the honest and the good not excepted, into subterfuge and even falsehood? Un- 
happily for Francis-Mary, he had not what the historian of the Medicean duchy 
assigns him, every quality that is desirable in a sorereign. Had he had, and 
been gracious and benevolent to his stibjects, he might have said at least what 
Henry said, who said most things wittily and well : " I am myself the l)est assur- 
ance for my people. My predecessor feared you and loved you not ; but 1 love 
you, and I have no fear of you."' And in that case lli-story would have looked, 
though sorrowfully, yet gently on his vices of habit and temperament, over- 
shadowed as they were by those of Henry, both an inveterate gamester and, to the 
very last, incorrigible — I cannot say libertine ; it is not a word that suits a 
man like him, who probably faund women lew.l, not miule them so; lut — to 
}iis latest day intemperate woman-lover. 

bears the same satirical relation to the Court of Henry IV. as Bussi's H:stoire amoureuse to the not less 
licentious one of Louis XIV. She too in her widowhood inadc, lilte Bianca, what tlie French call a marriafe 
of tonaeience with one ofher lovers, the famous Marshal Bassompierre : a fact worth noticing as tending to 
confirm by similitude of instance what, notwithstanding the brand of illegitimacy put upon Dun .Antonio, was 
perhaps the true state of things between the G. Duke and Bianca. Bianca was too scrupulous, or too proud, 
or too artful, whichever yoiTwill, to submit to his embraces except after a secret ceremony which satisfied 
the conscience. Unless it was performed from a moral and religious motive, or to cover her good name, I 
cannot see what was the use of such a rite. The public espousals could not in dcccnty take i lace two months 
after the death of Joanna, but the secret nuptials did. 



384 EIAJ^^CA CArELLO 



as ravished the beliolder "Oltre lo grazie della persona, iisava 

Bianca, per fomentare la passione del Granduca, i flltri, i prestigi edil 
miuisterio di una Giudea, ciii il mondo credeva esperta d' incantesimi^ 
ed era veramente d' inganni. La fattuchiera \_sorcere,^s'] era Bianca^ 
non la Giudea." {ib. 171.) Thus, either from Galluzzi (forheusea 
the same expressions), or directly from those Cardinalized archives 
which awakened no suspicion with the former, we have Botta repeat- 
ing with emphasis tliis puerile story, without at all being conscious 
that in ascribing to Bianca such marvelous beauty and such entranc- 
ing manners, he makes it nearly impossible, Avhatcver her self-delusion 
as to the actuality of sorcery, that she could have resorted to its falla- 
cious assistance. "What would be the object ? If she already held the 
Duke a slave to the double enchantment of her person and her mind, 
— and Galluzzi tells us that his passion was continually increasing, — 
where was the need of anj-thing beyond ("oltre") ? And p^iilters t 
for whom ? The Duke on the day of his death was but fortj'-seven 
years of ago, or forty-nine, computing after Segni(7) ; and Botta is 

(7) "Who tells us Francesco was nine years old when sent to meet at Genoa the- 
Emperor's son Don Philip (aftei'wards Philli^ II. of Sj^ain). And tliis was in the 
year 1547. — St. Fior. t. ii. p. S79. 

It has not escaped me, that the historians may mean that Bianca plied these arts 
to keep the Duke from inconstancy. Indeed Galluzzi says as much {sup. 3S0), and 
Muratori tells us, after a contemporary, that in the popular rumor which ascribed 
the poisoning to Bianca, she was thought to have been urged by jealousy, being " a 
woman of proud spirit." See infra 27. The Duke was then no longer under her 
influence. Where then was his infatuation, or what was become of Bianca's- 
,power ? If they still existed, then she had no need of drugs and magic charms ; 
if they did not, and he became her slave to the degree which we shall shortly see 
asserted, then his chains were forged by magic, and the eyes of the angdio 
visage "rained influence " by the drugs! 

In fact, nothing can be more contradictory than the accounts of both historians. 
Galluzzi, besides his prejudice, is blinded by the Cardinal Grand-duke's Archives; 
Botta is guided by that satiric spirit and prejudgment which see evil rather than 
good and find a delight in making the picture more elTcctive by its shadow.", althoiigli 



APPJiNDix ir. 385 



■\\Titlng- of a period elcveu years earlier ( !5TG). He was couscqueutly 
at that time but tliirty-six or at most but tliirty-eigiit years old ; and 
if Bianca"s sorcery was so notorious as to fill the city with horror, the 
Duke must have known of it. Are we to suppose then, that in the full 
vigor of bis best manhood he suffered such practices? If he had oc- 
casion for them, then his passion could not have gone on increasing ; 
for love the least sensual, as the most of it is wholly so, diminishes 
under such circumstances, if it does not become at once extinct. As 
for Bianca herself, we are told it was in 1503 that she fled from Venice. 
Supposing she was then eighteen, — though I would rather believe she 
was two or even three years younger, for women at eighteen are not 
so easily led asti'ay by a first passion as when its stimulus is still a new 
and almost uncontrollable sensation, — supposing her to be eighteen at 
(hat period, she was then in 157G but thirtj'-one. Where then, I re- 
peat, was the use of sorcery and love-potions to urge a man deeply 
enamored, himself in the flower of his manhood, to greater passion for 
a woman who could not have lost a beauty that was at any time re- 
puted marvelous, and who is said to have had such ravishing grace 
of manner and so seductive sweetness of look, that, whatever the 
mood she might be in, or might assume, she transported every heart? 
But, not to carry mere argument too far on a point which so little 
deserves it, let us adduce the force of a parallel example. About a 
centiu\y and a half before this time, Valentina of Milan, Duchess of 
Orleans, a woman like Bianca beautiful and intellectual, was said to 
owe her influence over her brother-in-law, the unhappy Charles YL, 
to sorcery. She was even obliged to forsake the Comt for some time 
to escape the insidts of the populace, who probably were stimulated 
by the King's uncles and their wives, as in tli!; case of Bianca they 

at the expense too often of real nature and the oljscrvalion of historic truth. It is 
to bo observed, that it was after all the villany ascribed to her by both these 
wi iters, that tlicy chronicle the secret marriage and the subsequent grand espousals 
with the co-.onation, both of which acts are the strongest evidence that the 
Grand duke's passion had not abated. 

1'7 



386 EIANCA CAPELLO 



were by the artifices of the Duke's brother. CaUiraiiy did uot slop 
hero, and to want of cliaslity in favor of the insane king added even 
the report of her poisoning him for the benefit of her husband !(8) 
But we are in the 19th century, tliree hundred years since Bianca 
lived and loved, and was adored— although we should Imrdly suppose 
it from the number of fortune-tellers wlio under various styles adver- 
tise the black art in the journals, —we are in an era of very general 
instruction and greatly increased freedom from superstition, yet what 
comes to us, even now wliile I write, from the land where the beau- 
tiful Venetian lived and was adored and finally suffered ? The spread 
of cholera is attributed to the malignity of evil-disposed persons, and 
an unfortunate woman in Naples wlio professed to be of the trade of 
Bianca's Jewess is actually cut into pieces as having been instrumental 
in its propagation. See then the people of Florence Mondering at the 
extent of Bianca's influence, precisely as in that earlier age the people 
of Paris did at the elegant Visconti's, and in their blind amazement 
prompted to an easy explanation after their own inode of thinking by 
the Cardinal's agents, *and you have the story. (9) The Jewess may 
have been a sorceress like her ancient compatriot, but was probably 
some female-nostrum vender, or woman'.-i-doetor, possessed of (or so 

(8) It was the handsome, dissipated, and ambitious Louis of France, her husband, 
whose actual dabbling with the fallacious art gave a color of truth-likeness to 
these scandals. Martin calls him " adcpta temerairc dos arts damnahles de la 
magie."' Ili:-<f. (Ic France. (Paris, in S°, 1S44,) t. vi. p. 2gS. See too ib. p. 2G9. 
And Henry IV. of England, in the last of his despatches, did not hesitate to ac- 
cuse hhn, not her, of causin » thj malady of Charles VI by xorcerien et diahleries. 
Id. ib. 301. 

(9) If the people were -ui'eJ with liorror at Bianca's supposed practices, what 
protected her from Iheir fury any more than A'alcntina ? TJie faiiaiicism of a. mob is 
the hideous growth of no peculiar age or country. The deformed and bloodthirsty 
giant was the same in the 16th as in the 14th century, and is the same in the 19th 
that he was in the 14th. Lola Monies was houted ynd pelted in Munich, and so 
was her royal lover, who n-as neither stupid nor cnicl, nor a Medici ; yet nobody 
ascribed his infatuation to anytliing supernatural. 



APPENDIX II. 387 



claiming) secrets of cnibeliirilimout aud rejuveiiatiou, a priestess of 
tlie tliauiuaturgy of the toilet ; but the stories set afloat are like, both 
in themselves and in their origin, those circulated, more than a hun- 
dred and fifty years before, against the fair aud intellectual grand- 
mother of Louis XII. (10) In fine, if Biauca v,-as the victim of the self- 
delusion ascribed to her, her practices under it wore to increase or 
secure the aflectious of her husband, of infidelity to whom there is not 
breathed against her even a suspicion. It is rather remarkable that 
M'hile unwilling to ascribe the Grand-duke's excessive passion for 
Bianca to anything but her nefarious arts (how many would be glad 
to know them !) there is no thought of attacking Camilla Martelli for 
a like infatuation on the part of Cosmo, — Cosmo, the strong-minded, 

(10) In Bianea's day, the belief in niajjic was still prevalent even among the 
educated. Not to cite again the credulity of Bothwell (who was however little 
more than a rude soldier), that popinjay of a king, yet gallant cavalier, half woman, 
half man, Henry III. of France, ashamed of his fantastical grief for Mary of Cloves, 
rriiicess of Conde, ascribed its excesses to enchantment. This was about the very 
period now in question, while, twenty-two years earlier, books on astronomy and 
geometr3' had actually been condemned in England as treatises of magic, notwith- 
standing the adyances made there as elsewhere in both those sciences. 

In the intervening age between Valentina and Bianca, or about a century before 
the latter's empoisonment, we find the usurper-Kichard laying his withered arm 
to the witchcraft of unhai)py Shore. And less than a score of years after the 
lattei', or in the first decade of the 17th century, Mary Stuart's son, James I. of 
England, a man something more than educated, was a good believer in witches ; 
while in France Eleonora Galigai, the foster-sister and favorite of Mary of Medici 
(Francesco's daughter), was put to death, although in reality for her insolent pre- 
sumption and the venal abuse of her influence, yet on the charge of practising sor- 
cery .(a) And this was about the time when Galileo stood up in the Inquisition, 
before the slaves of ignorance and the cliildren of superstition, to defend by sub- 
terfuge, or by fables which he believed not, the conceptions of his God-inspired 
mind. 



(a) It ia a coincidence tliat the chief poiut in the 
Jewiub doctor, familiar with the art. 



388 BIANCA CAPELLO 



politic, and resolute,— who was so mastered by his love that even his 
physicians could not keep him from that enchantress. (Gall. ii. 176.) 
We now come to the " nera 2)?rjidia.^^ The Duke was anxious to 
have male children, and rather than not have any was contented they 
should he illegitimate. Bianca set to work to gratify him ; hut her 
body being rendered unfruitful by sickness and dissipation ("disor- 
dini") she contrived this scheme. Three women of the vilest class 
(Gall.) or of vulgar standing (Botta), about to be confined, were en- 
gaged to part -with their offspring. One of them only (providentially 
— in two respects) brought forth a male. This was carried, in a lute, 
to the bedchamber where lay the Duchess affecting, like our Mrs. 
Cunningham, a mother's throes. (The reader has heard of a musical in- 
strument before as a vehicle of supposititious children to royal houses. ) 
As the Duke was perpetually with Bianca we are told, up to the last 
moment, when on some pretext she sent him off, we are left to wonder 
by what subtilty of contrivance and by what good fortune she could 
deceive him as to her situation. I need not explain my meaning. 
Every man will comprehend it, without being read in gestation. Thus 
much however. A woman may feign pregnancy to strangers, but not 
to her husband. The "outward and visible signs" are such, that un- 
less he were deprived of his eyes or had his arms amputated, the 
imposition would be impossible. Besides, the Duke in his ecstacy of 
expectation would have been the last man not to satisfy himself, in the 
innocent way that all curious expectant fathers do. I dare say he did a 
hundred times. {Mcnsibus gravidUatisjamferme exactis, superimposUa 
prcegnantis ahdomini manu, motinncida, quasi foetus tanUllum sid}- 
sultantis, sensibilis creherrimeflet.) But let us suppose a miracle, and 
that the Duke could through six months be kept away from any con- 
tact with the woman he adored. Was the Cardinal too deceived ? We 
shall see presently how he acted upon the Duke's death. Botta how- 
ever finds nothing wonderful in the transaction ; for, according to 
him,. Bianca had the eflrontery to tell the Duke himself of these false 
pretensions and that the little Antonio was but the sou of a common 
man and woman of the country! And the Duke, — i( icas all one. 



APPEISTDIX II. 38^ 



says that historian, /or the siupkl and cruel Medici ( . . f u tultuno per 
lo stiipido e cruclele Medici,") — was perfectly satisfied ! He might 
well add, ia this belief, "Se Francesco fosse piu vile, o Biauca piii 
fiu'ba, io nol saprei." {v.cit. p. 172). Now this stiiind Medici (the 
epithet ot cruel was out of place in the present matter) is pronounced 
by Galluzzi, in vei'y positive language, to have been tlie most accoin- 
2>Hshed as icell as talented inonarclt ofhistiine .'(11) Let me make then 

(11) Cs. infra (20.) — It will there be also found, th.it Sisraundi, like Cotta, de- 
prives him of all talent as well as virtue. Where does the truth lie? What be- 
comes of his known patronage of the arts ? of science ? of letters ? Speaking of 
his taste and magnificence in the adornment of Florence, Galluzzi says : " II gusto 
particolare de erigere nuove fabbriche e riparare e ingrandire le vecchie si distinse 
nel G. Duca Francesco superiormente alle altre sue inclinazioni." ii. 4T3 .... 
Conseqiientli/, he continues, the fine arts flourhlied with no less sjylendor thani 
in the reign of Cosmo, and elegance and good taste spread themselves everi/ 
day more and more among private citisens. ib. 474. In the text I have 
alluded to the famous Benvenuto Cellini. Galluzzi particularizes, in architecture, 
Anvnanato and Buontalenti, in painting Allori and Poccetti (he might have 
mentioned others), and Giovanni Bologna in sculpture. The Grand-duke's dis- 
liosition for these arts he chronicles as "singolare." 475. . . "Egli stesso, come- 
intelligentissimo delle medesime, sovente ne ragionava con gli artefici e con i 
gentiluomini della sua Corte ad oggetto d'' inspirare nel ptihblieo il gusto di 
favorirle e V i^iclinazione di jyrofessarle." (il>.) To him was owing the increase 
of the reputation and consequent growth of the Florentine Academy, out of which 
arose by sepai-ation, as in some organic creatures the offspring from the parent, in 
15S2 the Criisca. "Alio spirito nazionale ormai indirizzato da Cosimo alia letter- 
atura e alii studi siaggiuDgova l' inclinazione particolare del G. Duca Fran- 
cesco PER LE lettere e PEE I DOTTi. Like his father, he loved the domestic 
and familiar conversation of the most esteemed [among the learned — " i dotti "J, 
and took pleasure in maintaining with the absent a confidential correspond- 
ence ; and therefore he failed not to lionor, succor, and protect them in their 
occasions^^ . . . 477 sq. The Grand-duke was versed in Natural Uistory, 
and among its branches applied himself with especial diligence to Miner- 
alogy and to Jfetallurgy. 478. So with Botany. -~ He appreciated and favored 
writers of history. The two Universities of Tuscany flourished under him despite 



390 EIAXCA CAPELLO 



this remark. A man may be wise, and learned, and have even knowl- 
■edge of tlie world at large and of the female sex in particular, and 
yet become the slave of passion. But, " in vain," as we are told, 
" the not is spread in the sight of any bird " ; and he would have 
needed to be more than stupid, an idiot, a human beast, to give sanc- 
•tion to a trick which, apart from its disgusting wickedness, left still 
the grand desire of his heart unsatisfied ; for Francis wanted not an 
adopted child, the product, although male, of unknown parents, but 
a son of his own, and born to liim by the woman he loved. And I 
may say it would have been imjMsaiblc, had Bianca revealed the truth, 
that he would have sought to buy for this vulgar bantling a principal- 
ity in Naples. Yet that ho did this we are told by Botta, and Galluzzi 
goes still further. Philip of Spain had thoughts of conferring Siena 
on the strumpets-brood. Philip of Spain was not a fool, if history can 
be tortured into satire to make Francesco one. What then could have 
perverted his judgment, or seduced his not too easy faith (at least in 
matters not religious) ? Was there then any doubt as to the illegiti- 
macy of Don Antonio ? May he not have been born after the secret 
marriage of the Dulie, and the Archives have been made to tell another 
story ? The Cardinafs generosity was, to say tlie least, suspicious. 
See (24). It was in allusion to this rumor of Philip's intention that 
there occurred at first, in the scene between the Cardinal and Don 
Pietro {Act V. Sc. III.), this passage : 

More, thou art wrong'd in the present: our sire's wealth 
Must make the nest warm for the cuckoo's brood. 

the Inquisition, and, what deserves commendation, he Irimself conferred, ffom his 
men knoivledge of persons and of the requirements of science, the prof essor- 
■ships. When asked in 1531 by a monk {Frate) for the Chair of Philosophy in 
Sien.i, he wrote back with his own hand tiiat he did not want monks in Sfiich 
lectures (" Frati in tal lezione.'') ii. ad fin. 

How with such evidence before him, and by liiniself recorded, GaUuzzi could so 
far forget his own portraiture of this enlightened Prince as to libel his enth'e 
reign, can be explained only by a want of that philosophy which with benevolence 
js the joint parent of chanty. 



APPEXDIX II. 391 



How siandu tliU JeseleVs bastard son Antonio ? 

Held Vy thepeople second to the throne, 

Trith sixty t7io)isand ducats annual income. 

Fiefs, palaces, vilhts. Art thou totiaVJ t ^^'hy so i 

''Twos well reminded. Hear then this. From Spain, 

I learn King Philip tcill htstow Siena 

On this same Vrat, tchof aunts icith horroic'd rif/Jit 

Our boasted name. 

Doa P. Thai is not true. 

Card. Asl- else 
Thy friends Dovara. Wilt thou not awake ? 

I thought the Cardinars language would be ascribed, as I meant it, to 
his evil disposition aud unprincipled designs. It was the hand of an 
unscrupulous enemy painting the object of his hatred with the dark- 
est colors furnished by malevolence to his imagination. The passage 
liowever had to be sacrificed^, because the words of Bianca in the final 

Scene, 

" I bear within me what might blast thy hopes, 

Could I but live so long to {rive it life," 
would have given verity to the imputation that this D. Antonio was 
born before her marriage with the Duke. But with these facts, taken 
from Galluzzi himself, of the extraordinary honor in which this boy 
M'as held, and of the wealth that was heaped on him, and whi^it will 
be seen the Cardinal Grand-duke did not take away, and of the prin- 
cipality designed for him by Philip, is it possible to suppose, that, let 
alone a positive illegltimacj', any such abominable transaction had 
taken place as that wherewith, through the malignancy and policy 
of Bianca's arch-enemy, the records have furnished Galluzzi and the 
inadequately perspicacious historians who with credulity or careless- 
ness have adopted his views ?(12) 

(12) And it is not impossible that history, whose record is as often made up of 
falsehoods as of truths, if not oftener, has lent undesignedly its dangerous distor- 
tion, to what was already counterfeit, by copj-iDg without consideration the studied 
scandals of the times. What has our war of the Rebellion taught us? If, two 



392 lilAXCA CAPELLO 



But let ns follow the amazing story further. Blanca, who had con- 
fessed her shameless duplicity and to the great content of the stupid 
Duke, yet wants to get rid of her accomplices in a secret action that 
was no longer secret and whose results were satisfoctory on all sides, 
but the Cardinal's. So she has two of them secretly put to death and 
their assistants removed by exile. But the chief person, a Bologuese 
go'Cerness, is retained. By and by, she wishes to get rid of her also. 
So she sends her back to Bologna ; and, on the way, soldiers from 
Florence set upon her, and she is mortally wounded. Her statement, 
taken juridically, was to the effect that she recognized the assassins 
as Florentine soldiers and cui-diroats of Bianca .'(13) Tliis from the 
lips of a dismissed servant — a woman too ! and a woman utterly un- 
principled by her own confession, if, as she pretended, she had been 
employed by Bianca to superintend the execution of her frauds. And 
the precious document (observe !) is sent, not to Fi-ancis, but to the 
Cardinal Ferdinand at Rome ! How it got into the Archives and re- 
mained there, was best known doubtless to the personage in whose 
behoof it was concocted, — that is, if it was more than the revengeful 
malice of an unworthy servant, sent away in disgrace. Certainly, it 
was a roundabout way for Bianca to take with this one woman, Bianca 
the " artful " as well as " spiritual," when she had so noiselessly rid 
herself*of all the rest. (14) In what court of the United States, or of 

hundred years hence, some historian should have had nothing to copy from but 
the atrocious calumnies of Jefferson Davis and his so-called Ministers, and should 
have found confirmation of the same in the congenial malice of most of the news- 
papers of Great Britain and of France, what would be the record of the Union 
Government ? 

(13) . . " di aver conosciuto che il suo feritore con altri compagn! eva.no io\- 
dati Fiorcntini e sicarj della Bianca." Gai.l. ii. 273. — For what other purpose 
aid her lady use them? The Governess did not say. She must have been her- 
self the supervisor of more iniquities than child-coinage, to be familiar with the 
faces of the assassin-servants. And that simpleton Bianca, not to employ new 
ones 1 

(14) It is not to be at all supposed that a woman of the Governess's position, if 



APrENDix II. 393 



Great Britain, is it, tliat sucli testimony would be taken as proof sufQ 
ciL'nt of tlie guilt of the suspected party, and tlie latter too unheard ° 
Yet it is pi'ecisely this cx-parte evidence that comes down to us as his- 

any other, would travel from Florence to Bologna, a journey tlien of several days, 
alone, much less at a time when the whole confines were swarming as we have 
seen with freebooters. Even if without companions, she must have had a vettu- 
fcile, or a guide and attendant if riding a mule.(a) At all events she could not 
have been alone ; for we are told she caused herself to be carried to Bologna, being 
doubtless so far on her way thither as to be in the very midst of the masnadieri. 
"What became then of her companion, escort, driver, or companions? Sujiposing 
that her murder was intended, it is evident that when one man could do the job 
effectually it would hardly have been committed to more than two (for that there 
were several is implied in the very words of the narrative). Yet they left her 
merely wounded! She had power still to travel, and strength when she arrived to 
make her deposition 1 This was bungling work. The truth of the story may be 
conjectured to be this: — The party of which the governess made one (travelers ir» 
tliose days, as now, or lately, in Italy, if they had no party, waited for their oppor- 
tunity to join one, but rarely if ever journeyed by themselves) were attacked by 
one of those bands of brigand-soldiers of which we have spoken as among the pests 
of Francesco's inefficient reign. Shots were fired to stop the party, or because 
of their resistance, as they probably traveled armed, and one of them — archibii- 
saia(\>) — struck the woman. This was a fine opportunity for revenge on her part, 

(a) It wsa about this lime that coarhes began to be of anything like frequent use in traveling ; but even 
then they were reserved for persons of rank, and the introduction of them was looked upon with displeasure 
by sovereign princes, some of these forbidding their general employment by edict. When Segni speaks of 
a *' vetturale " {velturino) in the story of the origin of Duke Alexander, the man's employers were princes. 
Henry of Navarre, when King of France, had but one carriage, and was obliged to do without, as he said on 
one occasion, when the Queen was using it. 

(b) The arquebust',* the first form of the musket, was a most uncertain, as clumsy and unwieldly weapon. 
Tliose that Philip II., of Spain, introduced into his army, required a forked rest to steady them ; and it ia 
reasonable to suppose that these huge matchlocks, carrying a very heavy ball, were the kind adopted by 
Francesco. This adds to the absurdity of the idea of sending out assassins so armed. Poor Bianca ! they 
will not allow thee even sense in thy diablery 1 Fancy a band of these arquebusiers making ready to shoot a 
governess, who of course stands still to accommodate them, while, perched on eminences in the various long 
distances of the future, three historians are gravely taking notes ! — We see too, that with such a weapon 
the probability is increased of the woman's having been wounded by accident, or by divergence of the ball. 



• Webster, in his derivation of this word, is in the clouds, -where he. gropes too often for a composite ety- 
mon. It does not si^ify a hoo}c-gun, nor for that matter a eun at all in the sense in which we use that word. 
The " arqucbuse " was the direct successor of the crossbow or arbaiist (balestra), and therefore popularly, 
inevitably I might say, took the name of hollow or tube bow. " Arcliibuso : cioe arco bugio, nvvcro bucato. 
Atco, perclte su<ccde alie balestrc, e a' verretoni, e agli archi degli antichi." Abat. Sai.vI.M. Not. nel Trattm 
T>. della Ling- Tosc. del Buommattei. ed. Mil. 1807. I. 268. 

11* 



394 BIANCA CAPELLO 



tory, unsustained even on its own side by one solitary proof of actual 
guilt. And for this, alas, we read in life-dictionaries, some of tliera 
of gi'eat repute, of the artful and cruel Bianca! — Herein she 
is more unfortunatp than her unhappy contemporary Mary Stuart, 
whose imputed complicity in tlie assassination of her liusband has 
more than one rebutting evidence coexistent with the charge itself. ( 15) 

even if she were not put up to licr villanous aspersion by an ajent of the Car- 
dinal's, ■n-ho appears to have had emissaries and secret servants everywhere. 

(15) What Ilallam has said of a corresponding character of the 14th century, is 
worth observing. "The name of Joan of Naples has suffered by the lax repeti- 
tion of calumnies. * * * The charge of dissolute manners, so frequently made, 
is not warranted by any specific proof or contemporary testimony." State of 
Europe, etc. v. i. p. 4CT (N. Y. in 8°. 1S63.) 

Between Joanna and Mary Stuart there is considerable resemlilance, both in 
individual traits of person and of character and in certain conspicuous points of 
their histories. Each was suspected of conniving at the murder of her husband, 
and each confirmed the suspicion with most minds (but, I think, illogically,) by 
marrying the principal assassin. fa) And between all three of the personages 
before us, the contemporaries Mary and Bianca and their quasi-prototype of two 
centm-ies before, there is the common point of a calumniated character. Yet 
Joanna whom Hallam thus partially exculpates was probably the most condemn- 
able of all three. Does not everybody know of his own experience priv.ate in- 
stances of detraction, and of misapplied accusation of crime or misconduct whereof 
the really guilty party escapes all censure? History is but a i-epetition on a large 
scale and before the world of what transpires in the narrow and obscure circle of 
familiar intercourse. 

(a) This la not the place to argue such a point, but, writing for the future, I taltc up spare to assert that 
a woman, who had been privy to the murder of her husband, would not, — except she were of the very 
lowest order of humanity aud of the most degrading associations, — have consented, of free will, to marry bis 

Shakspeare, in a grotesquely unnatural scene, malies io'?y Anne to be won by Oloster even while tba 
usurper confesses to have liilled her husband. This is natural enough in the result of bis wooing, as com- 
mented on in his soliloquy, and only unnatural because of the exaggeration iu brevity of time, and that lack 
of every consideration of propriety of language, manner, and sentiment which is a frequently occurriQg fault 
of that great poet. It is natural, I say, so far as the influence of such a suit on the mind of a vain, ambitious 
and weak woman ; but then Anne of Warwick had not been privy nor consenting to the murder of Edward. 
A case absolutely to the point; for the widow of Prince Edward did marry his chief murderer. And tho 
tyrant would have also had the Princess Elizabeth his niece, had the latter consented ; for her mother wa» 
willing to betroth her to the butcher of her own three sons and of her husband. Yet none would be so mad 
as even to suspect Anne or the Queen Dowager of complii ity in any of these assassinations. 



ArPENMX 11. 395 



Eemeuiber, all these foul accusations are made, not against a vulgar, 
ignorant, and low-minded woman, but one who by tlie united testi- 
mony of her worst def;imers was, like Mary herself, gifted with 
intellect as well as beauty, and was moreover of a lofty spirit, 
although what to one writer is simply lofty becomes, in the vituper- 
ation of another, haughtiness and insolent presumption. Add to tins, 
that Francis, whether "cruel" or not, was still a Medici, that he had 
suftered, if not sanctioned, the assassination of his own sister and of 
his brother's wife for their debauchery, and would hardly have en- 
dured, above all he a man not indifferent but passionately enamored, 
therefore liable to jealousy, and one who, according to Galluzzi, never 
forgave, any departure from chastity by Bianca. As I have said, there 
is uo suspicion breathed against her except what may be gathered 
from a vagire and uncertain epithet or phrase. (U;) Had there been 
cause, a single example, the historians would not have failed to 

(IG) All of Galluzzi's tei ms and epithets show what a view he had taken of 
Bianca's charactei* ; and Sismondi fo'lows liim without distrust (" rartificeuse et 
debauchee ") ; while Botta, according to his manner, with intensity of accumula- 
tive sarcasm, treats us to tliis extraortlinary satirical climax, on the occasion of 
Bianca's coronation: '• Addi dodici d' ottobre la scappata di Yenezia, la dop[]ia 
adultefa d' un marito legittimo e di una moglie legittima(a), la stipendiatrice di 
un' Ebrea ribalda, 1' ucciditrice di tre donne chiamate da lei a flnto parto(b) fu 
portata trionfalmente con la corona in testa." t. e. 174. One would think tliat 
^vhere Eleonora and Isabella lent examples of roj-al dissoluteness, where Don 
Pietro sinned against nature, and Francesco (as said) retailed the poisons of his 
father's private shop, Bianca *iight have been reserved for the middle tints of the 
jiicture, nor made to bear its broadest sunlight and intensest shadow; but the 

(a) One instance is not proyed. For the other, nine hundred and ninety-nine women out of a thousand 
Would in the same circumstauces have done as I suppose the widow of Bonaventuri may have done, and the 
thousandth would have thought she was doing no harm in committing adultery with the eyes. This, in any 
age and any country. And Botta, if he knew mankind as he onght to have known, must have been aware 
oi this, call it weakness, or depravity, (and it is bcth). Why then launch into such special vituperation 
sgainst this one calumniated head I Christ would have turned round on her accusers and written in the 

If (b) I need not repeat, where was the use of slaying them, if Bianca did not hesitate to reveal the plot 2 
Botta here, in his love of verbal painting and epigrammatic force, forgets probability, if not' ignores his owtt 



596 EIAXCA CAPELLO 



•quote it, and we may rest assured that in her relations as Grand-duchess 
she did nothing to lessen the devotion of her lord, a devotion which 
taking the archival record of Ills' death as veritable (which I do not) 
was evidenced, even in the belief of his enemies, by his latest 
breath. Cons. y. 1587. 

One word more. The account of Bianca's foisting a spmnous off- 
spring on the Grand-duke is renewed, in the form of a suspicion, on 
every recurrence of her pregnancy. The historians endeavor to jus- 
tify their aspersion by her supposed sterility, a supposition which ap- 
pears to rest on no reasonable foundation, Bianca, to have the grace 
that is ascribed to her by her calumniators, must have been perfectly 
■well-made, and was therefore fitted by natui-e for reproduction. She 
had born a daughter (Pellegrina) to her first husband. What ground 
"was there for supposing that married to the Duke, a member of a pro- 
lific family, and who had had children by the feeble, stunted and pallid 
Joanna, she should suddenly lose fecundity ? v. under yy. 1586, 1587. 
Galluzzl, we have seen, says she had become sterile through the use 
•of medicines and by dissipation ; and Botta repeats, with an addition, — 
" Per medecine, per disordini, per corrutela." These assertions must 
iDe, at the strongest, conjectural ; but what do they mean ? There is, 
I repeat, no one charge, no suggestion even of incontinence on her 
part, not a word said of intemperance : and merely high-living would 
not produce sterility, nor would obesity, unless it were natural and 
not the result (if it ever be) of intemperate living. Are such vague 
■charges to be admitted without one syllable of proof? and of all the 
contemporary writers, edited and uneditecj, is there none to back 
these attestations with a single instance ? Let them then be dis- 
missed as the malice of her arch-enemy and the inconsiderate abuse 
of those who are not her friends. To prove Bianca sterile there M'as 
a powerful motive ; to assert that she was so is not to prove it. This 

Bpirit of the dead Cardinal hovered over the name he had made hifamous and 
sought to obliterate, and added his immortal hatred to the sarcasm of a pen cruel 
at times as the poison, tlie halter, or the linife, of the writer's hated Medici. 



APPENDIX II. 397 



talk of sterility caused in a manied woman of thirty by her dissipation 
may do for the IGtli century, but will not for this. (17) If Bianca, after 
producing Pellegrina, really was incapable of bearing more children, 
it was the defect of her organization and had nothing to do with her 
course of life. Bat the probability is, that that vile poisoner, the second 
son of the poisoner Cosmo, was only at his father's practices. What 
were the colic spasms which took off, once before, his brother's hope 
of issue by Bianca ? It may have been even that the premature de- 
livery of Joanna (seey. 157S) was some of hia doing. (18) He knew not 
then that his brother would wed Bianca ; and it is certain that his rage 
at that disappointment of his hopes was greater than was decent. See, 
as before, yy. 1586, 7. These terms "disordini," "coruttela," "medi- 
cine," were, I little doubt, invented by the Cardinal or his partisans to 
substantiate the accusation of the plot, and to justify the assertion that 
her various pregnancies were simulated. 

Finally, the Duke, who, according to Bolta, knew that this was a 
supposititious child, recommends him, according to Galluzzi, to the care 
of the Cardinal, and the Cardinal Grand-duke, as I have twice imphed 
and as will be seen presently, takes care of him, and suffers him to 
enjoy the name he thought too good to be deflled by a child of the 
Senator Capello ! In fact, the whole thing is an absurd jumble. I be- 
lieve the tacts are just as I have given them in the play. If that bo 
romance, never did romance in my opinion come so near to history, aa 
sui'cly in this episode of the House of Medici never did history bor- 
row so much from romance. 

Joanna died the 11th of April, 1578, — " attraversatosi il feto gia 
1578 morto nell' utero,'' — not having strength to sustain the remedies 

of art. (Granduc. ii. 291).) This was nearly two years after the 
deaths of Isabella and Eleonora. Noble, whom for obvious reasons I 
have followed in the text, says she died April 6, 1578, in premature 

(17) Witness the present Queen of Spain. 

(IS) I am speaking with due reflection, when I say I do not believe the Cardinal 
was in anywise too good to have abused his intimacy for that purpose. 



398 BIANCA CAPELLO 



labor, shocked by tbe murder of Isabella and Eleonora, wlio were both 
strangled on the same day. Galluzzi would have it that the honors 
paid to Vittorio (Bianca's brother) on coming to Florence contributed 
to Joanna's death. (19) 

. . "Era [Joanna] di piccola slalura, di faccia pallida, e di aspetto 
non vago." {ih. p. 299.) The Cardinal a great favorite of Joanna's. 
[We may suppose him therefore fomenting the dissatisfaction of the 
people, who, we are told, libeled the Duke while they praised the 
Duchess.] This i)eriod was the epoch of the fiercest discord between 
the brothers, "non piii velata dalla dissimulazione ma ratificata al 
pubblico da molte apparent! dimostrazioni." {ib. 300.) 

Antonio e Piero Capponi and Bernardo Girolami, the most distin- 
guished of the rebels who had acted with Pucci and Eidolfi, fled to 
France, where they openly defamed Francesco. And the Cardinal 
maintained constant relations with that country, (ib.) Here too Gal- 
luzzi shows a spirit of animosity to Francesco ; for he says that the 
desire of vengeance, "passione predominante nelli spiriti deboli," [a 
folse assumption and contradicted by his own example, not to say of 
the Cardinal, yet of Cosmo, whose mind was anything but a weak one] 
animated him to put an end to the chief conspirators there. [Yet he had 
endeavored to disarm Orazio Pucci by numerous benefits, and it was the 
Cardinal who suggested the arrest of this hereditary rebel.] Curzio 
Picchena da Colle was Secretary of the Embassy, a young and enterpris- 
ing man. He was provided with poison, etc. Forty thousand ducats 
promised for each death, besides ex2)enscs .' (ib. .SOL) This too Sis- 
mondi, who adds: "II lui [le G.-d. a Picchena] -fit passer des poi.sons 
subtils, dont Cosme 1" avait etabli dans son pedals une manufaclure, 

(19) We are reminded of the avowal nr boast, — "all extr.ncted faitlifiilly from 
the Medicean, Archives." The singleness of his sources of information tends to 
render Galluzzi's volumes unreliable as a history. 

It will be elsewhere seen, that a modi rn writer has found in the same Archives 
evidence sufficient to overtliiow all, and absolutely, the opinions previously 
formed as to the character of that abominable woman, Caterina de' Medici 1 They 
must be, as he says, a precious deposit of historical documents ! 



APPENDIX II. 399 



qivil pretenclait etre un atelier de cliimie pour les experiences " ; and 
so on, after Gallnzzi. B^jnib. ItaL t. 10. p. 2^0 sq. — Girolarai died, 
and the rest [mark tins !] lay the ninrder on the Duke ; of whose crim- 
inality Gallnzzi adduces no one proof. They, the conspirators, dis- 
persed themselves in France and England ; but the cut-throats of the 
Grand-duke followed them and ^Mn course of time gave him all the 
satisfaction he desired."(2 )} A Florentine assassin, broken on the 

(20) We have seen how Botta speaks of Francis, — tlie-stujyid and cr^iel Ifedici, 
Sismondi's summing-up of Lis cliaracter is as follows: "Francois, tout aussi per- 
fide, tout aussi cruel, que son pCre, mais bien plus dissolu(a), bien plus vaniteux, 

, to have debauched both his own daughter and 
3 lust 7 We hear of none hut Biaiira, who 
i ptiesion, which in 1576 had already lasted thir- 
;iit with the charge of dissoluteness, which sup- 
poses indulgence in various amours, and cannot apply to one attachment, whether sanctioned by the Church 
or not. 

In note (11) I quoted largely from a special chapter of Gslluzzi's showing that in the particulars that made 
Cosmo's reign illustrious Francesco's was not less splendid than his.* Wc are loM there, besides, that the 
former spent whole days in the galleries of his art-collections. With such a record, he coull not have been 
dlBs'iIute were he married to half a dozen Biancas and enamored of them all. In dissoluteness man gives up 
bis brain. The abuse of those life-energies which God designed, as with other animals, but for the reproduc- 
tion of the kind, is incompatible with continued study and such arrIi<^alion to the interest of the arts and of 
learning as we have seen ascribed, with compulsory truth, to the G. Eulie Francis. 

In every drawing of an historical character, consideration should be had to the manners of the time. We 
shall presently see what were the morality and decency of the Court of Catharine of Medici. The Bjssompierre 
incidentally mentioned in a previous passage, who bridges over for us in this relation the end of the 16lh and the 
beginning of the 17th century, is an evidence that the profligacy of persons of rank in the era I am busy with waa 
not evanescent either in itsgrossness or its excessive turpitude. That favorite of Henry IV., and ornament of 
the Court of Louis XIII., confessed to a ruffianly complicity in the most brutal of all outrages ; an act for 
•which he came nearly being stoned, as he deserved to be fully, by the people of the flace of the occurrence.t 
This was in ie04, seventeen years after the death of Francesco, who is handled by historians as if he were the 
only sinner, wlicre in his position there was scarcely any other class. So with his alleged cruelty ; it waa 
the characteristic of the age. Henry III. of France, a prince who, though debauched by the devilish artifices 
of a bad niother — a Medici, was not without virtues, got rid of two dangerous enemies, the Duke and the Car- 
dinal of Guise, by assassination. This was in lGf8. In 1589, he was himself murdered.: In 1584, William 
of Orange underwent the same fate in the Netherlands. Not thirty years before (1555-6) occurred in England 
the burning of the heretic bishops and other reforming clergy, while Scotland was defiled in 1547 by the 
murder of Cardinal Beaton, of Rizzio in 1666 and of Darnley in 1567. In 1520 took place the massacre of the 



(a) Than Cosmo ! who w 


as said, on more than suspicio 


le betrothed of his snn. 


Where are the victims of Fi 


; reproached with having 1 


:nsde him hers I And for her 


;en years, showed no abad 


ement. This in itself is inconsi 


OSes indulgence in various 


■ amours, and cannot apply to oi 



" I am nnt claiming for it beneficence, nor wisdom. The money bestowed in collecting, at extravagant 
prices, treasures of ancient art in slatiiarv and in medals alone, sliould have been ratlier devoted to liiB peo- 
ple's solid advautaijes. But neither was Cosmo in the least degree lienef.cent ; and compared with his reign 
who bears the epithet of Great, in what is Francis' less honorably conspicuous, even by Galluzzi'sown acivnowl- 
«dgment7 The strong animal blood of the Medici was as productive of vices and of crimes (taking the 
record at the worst) in ojie as in the other. 

t Hai pily, the villany designed was not consummated, although the outrage was. See bis own Memoirs, 
ar- PetJtol, t. XIX. (Paris 1822) p. 323. As he was rewarded tor his vile complaisance by an honor that 
gratified his v.initv as a courtier, we may suppose that his compunction — ("ce tiue jefis a grandrcgret, et cea 
pauvrcs lilies pleuroient " — ) was stillea by one of the meanest of motives. 

: To the great joy of his Catholic sulijects, and of the Pope, Sixtus V., who "feared not to sanction in cold 
blood. In full consistory, the regicide . . and elevating the name of .lames Clement above those of Judith and 
i^leazar Maccabeus, compared tile miraculous event to the Incarnation and the Resurrection of the Lord"! 
Maktin {after De Thou) : Hist, de France, ed. c., t. xi. p. 210, note. 



400 BIANC'A CAPELLO 



wheel, coafessed to having been sent expressly into France by the G. D. 
to murder Troilo Orshii [one would have thought the D. of Bracciano 
had been the more likely instigator] for six thousand ducats, and after- 

bien plus irascible que lui [how floes this accorrl with his dissimuhition, as G;ilUizzi 
states it?], n^ivii it duann ilea i'llciits par le-iquen Cofuns 1" avail fonde na 
yrandear [it was something more t.h:in talenU Cosimo employed]. Aussi fut il, 
plus encore que lui. I'olyet de la haine des peuples. et cette haine n'etait melee 
A' aucun sentiment de re>'pevt pour ston habUet- .'''' R. It.X. 10. p. 225. Galhizri, 
inconsistent with himself, writes in positive contradiction to all the chief points in 
this repulsive picture. After saying he w s the greatest dissembler of all princes, 
inexorable with his inferiors, and witli his equals haughty to the degree of wishing 
thi'ir humiliation, he deulares on the other hand, his laws show him to liave bee<i a 
Prince just and impartial, an encin;/ of corruption, '■ amore'onle can i aud- 
deiti " [reconriltt thi~ to the ''inexorable, etc." aliove, for 1 can not], cfornito di 
tutte quelh quilit i rhe si denilerano in un Engnantey If lie was furniished 
with all t/ioae qualities zohich are desirable in a sovereign, what are we to 

nobles in Sweden. The atrncilies of that pinus hyrot-rite and sanguinary egitist. that BUperlative com- 
pound of all that is vile in the i riesthnoi! anil ojinus in kings, Pliilii. II. of Spain, who coul.l not die without 
a fourteen-times-rcpeateil sat raineiil, the atrocities perpetrated or sanctioned !>y him everywhere where h:s 
power extende.l, from the privacy of his palace to tlie utTio.st reach of his wide dominion {13S6-10), are 
familiar to tlic history-cl iss of every si honl. And in 1572 took place the Massacre of St. Birthrlomew, when 
the groans of thousands of butchered heretics made music to the cars of Satan, and echoed so delightful to 
the fancy of Gregory XIII , that, not content w;th cele'jiiting the glorious event by cannon-firing, illumi.i- 
ations and a solemn procession to the churches of a God of Peace, he had a melal struck, in which the De- 
Btroying Angel on one side was balanced by his own bust on the other.* Everywhere blood, blood ; ami blood 
shed tyrannically, barbarously, basely. But centuries make no dilforence in tlie record of human crime. Two 
hundred and ninety years after the in.'crnal l)loo l-bath of St. Bartholomew, a traitorous part of the Inw Irish ia 
this city enacted in a narrower shamlilcs, on inolfensive l»larks, the God-defying butchery wliich tlie papist- 
ical zealots perpetrated on Coligni and his coreligionists, — crushing out their brains with stones and sus- 
pending their quivering bodies to la!npp"sts, and, with a savageness of fury that cannot be called vindictive 
rage, beating to death, dragging through the kennels, and hanging up his muddy, half-eviscerated and scarcely- 
recognizable remains, their own countryman who in his military oince was man and citizen enough to adhere 
to his duty, — and this from im religious .antipathy, but from a latent envy, mingled strangely witli barliarous 
contempt, and rouse.l to violence iiy partisan hatred of the great government that protected them and enabled 
them to obtain from a corrui.t and se ni-foreigii municipality, disloyal like themselves, their absurd privi- 
leges. Two years later, after acts of atrocious inhumanity committed in coll blood by the despairing Rebels^ 
and wanton piracies, and robbery, ami schemes of disgusting villany for the conllagration of great cities 
and the introduction into the n of the des-il ition of pestil.mre, occurred by the hand of a political fanatic the 
death of rmsiilent Lincoln, even su.h a murl.-r as those of Hsnrv HI. and IV. of France and Wdliam of 
Orange. Were I to write one word as the Finis of the universal history of mankind from fabulous .Adam 
ilown, — a w-ril that should express the lesson to bo gathered for man's hope of moral betterment, — it would 
be DESPAIR. 

• The IIolv Father, who saw the necessity of ref-rming the Oilendar for the sake of the Chnr-h, had no 
Idea "fa reri-rm iti"n in the (.-hiir. h ils.i:. S-, in .ad 1. lion I- other signs of ar pr-liation, the agcl ipostle of 
pe.icc onJ pood-wdl unto men caused a picture to be made of the m.ass acre and exhibited in the V.itiran " en 
lieu trijs-apparent et honorable ", where, according to M. Martin, it stimulates devotion still, lb. 597 sq. 



APPENDIX II. 401 



ward retaiaecl for otlier murders. He said moreover that the Am- 
bassador aud Secretary had frequent interviews with him for the pur- 
pose. [All this, remember, on the assertion of a hired assassin. But 
it is certainly an extraordinary indication of the state of the times in 
whicli such an accusation could be made against an ambassador.] 
The Secretary (Piccliena) in consequence was arrested. Out of frien'd- 
ship liowever for the Medici lie was released, but banished perpetu- 
ally. Granduc. ii. 325, sq. See remonstrancesof the Queen of France 
on this murder of Troilus, etc. ib. p. 350. (21) 

think of those aspersions upon his rule, and upon his character both as a man and 
a prince, which are read nut only in Sismondi as above and furnish material for the 
gloomy etchings of Botta, but are scattered thmughout his history by Galluzzi 
liimself? "/ftwot ialevti e le sue cognizioni erano certamente superior'i a 
quelle di qntilunqne Principe dei iuoi ieJii]}/, ec. ec." Granduc. ii. 423. It ia 
inipnssible to get over the positiveness of tliis declaration, niiich moreover is 
maintained by an enumeration of the accomplishments for which the historian 
claims this superiority of Francis-Mary in talent and in knowledge to all the 
Princes of his time. Those who are curious in the matter will find on consulting 
his second volume, Cap.X., Fuch a record of Francesco's devotion to the fine arts, 
to the embellishment and renown of Florence through them, his encouragement 
of learned men, his own acquirements in the sciences, as will not only make them 
•marvel at Galkuzi's prejudice, but pronounce the assertion of Sisraondi, that the 
people's hatred of Francesco was qualified by no sentiment of respect for his abil- 
ities, a monstrous misrepresentation, v. suprii (11). 

(21) This was the Queen-Mother, Catharine of Metlici, whom I have alluded to 
as lending her aid to the worst and most indecent debaucheries that ruined what 
was good in Henry III. (a) A detestable woman, the chief promoter if not instiga- 
tor of the Massacre of St. Barthoiomew('j). wl'ose horrors she contemplated with 



(a) In all her policy, Catharine made great ase of hamlsnnie women and amorons intrigue, havine always 
abniit her a swarm of brilliant on* faMT b^iutia (llie phrase is M. Mania's), who went familiarly by Hie 
faceliniis name of her /jinff siHi-Zron — " rescadroii vfl-ant ile la Ruinc." MiBT. Hist. X 75. 

(h) Charles was full of hesitation, and even of horror as the hour arproached ; but Catharine stood by his 
«ide, his evil monitor, ami when argument failed roused the devil of his nature by imiieaching his manhood. 
N. (after n'Aubign.;), ib. E70. Alberi however, a Ufe-wriler rresenUy to be ci^ed, maintains, not only that 
^either of them desired or provoked the massacre, but that both used their utmost power to moderate its ex- 
ecssee 1 Vit. ut inf. p. 105. 



402 BIANCA CAPELLO 



Biauca, while the Grand-duke treated the Cardinal harshly, 
1580 acted witli great suavity and an appearance of affection and 

suhmissiveness. — Tlie Cardinal wanting money, and Fran- 
cesco refusing an anticipation of his revenue, Bianca procured the 

pecfect in(Ufference.(c) Daughter of Lorenzo, Duke of Urbino, and niece of 
Giulio, Clement VII., even her merits, like her vices, were those of her family. 
That she should remonstrate against the poisoning of Troilus could have beea 
only because, under the circumstances, it insulted her supremacy(d), not from 
scruples of conscience ; for her hand, the Medici hand, was recognized in the sud- 
den deaths of Jane of Navarre and Mary of Cleves, and some suspected even that 
(She poisoned her ovrn son Charles IX. (c) 

(r) She dill something more, and the historian cites it as an cvider.cn of the depravation of morals in her 
Court : " On vit les fiJles d'Lonneur de la reine mere, et Catherine elle-meme, examiner, avec des remarquea 
obacenes, les corps depouille's des gentilshommes huguenots de leur connaissance." ib. ZSQ. The example' 
is one rather of the horrible callousness to which the common cruelty of the age had brought even the gentler 
and timid sex. As for the feminine remarlis, they too are rather an illustration of the coarseness of the 
time than of its licentiousness : it was depravity simply naked and shameless ; for, save in the closeness and 
the adornment of its drapery, the carnal-spirit, or beast-man, is much the same in all ages. 

But that ingenuous and pleasant chronicler, Pierre de I'Estoile, in his curious but valuable medley. Journal 
de Henri III. (Mem. jcur servir ire., in Petitot's Collection, t. 45, p. 7P,) tells us something more startling thaa 
even this indecent cruelty. Catharine, it seems, was not at all l^ehind certain of her noble subjects, who 
availed tliemselves of the pretext, often false, of heresy, to put to death their own relations, in order to get 
possession of their property, — what might be called a natural concomitant and consequent of such commo- 
tions, wherein right and wrong are often, both by accident and by design, confounded. " En ce terns [just 
ofter the St. Bartholomew] la bonne dame Catherine, en favour de son mignon de Kets, qui vouloit avoir la. 
terre de Versailles, fit etrangler aux prisons Lomcnie, Secretaire du Roy, auquel ladite tcrre appartenoit, et 
fit mourir encore quelques autres pour reconipenser ses serviteurs de confiscations." 

(d) She 80 avowed indeed to the G. Duke's Secretary ..." perche II G. D. non tien conto dl me, anzi coa 
tanto dispiaccr mio e del Re ci ha fatto ammazzare sugli occhi Troilo Orsini ed altri, che i>ou ci par ben fatto, 
essendo qucsto Regno libero, e che ognuno si puo stare." loc. cit. 

It is curious to note how the powerful animal character of the Medici is traceable even in the females. As 
a rule, children take more after their mothers than their fathers, but both in Catharine and in Mary of Medici' 
we have the traits, not of the mother's blood but of the father's, while Charles IX. of France may be thought 
to have derived his evil dispositions from his mother, as undoubtedly they were encouraged, iutensilied, anil 
brought into frightful action by that unprincipled and pitiless woman. 

(e) L'Estoile has preserved for us a rather indifferent epigram of the time on Catharine, which compares. 
her to Jezebel. It concludes thus : 

" Enfin le jugement est tel : 
Par une vengcince divine, 
Les ciiiens mangerent Jezabel; 
La charogne de Catherine 
Sera differente en ce point. 
Car leschiens n'en voudront point." Coll. tit, t. 47. p. 80. 

Those who would see how an Italian in Florence, having at heart the honor of its once ruling family, and' 
writing, in this century as did Galluzzi in the last, under the auspices of a Grand-duke of the Austrian House, 
and moreover an ardent Roman Catholic, has sought to explain away all the facts which have been brought 
to bear against both Catharine of Medici and Charles IX., may consult Eugenio Alberi, in Vita di Catering 
de' Medici : Firenze, in 4to. 1638. The writer says in hie Preface : " Mi son trovato condotto a rovesciaro- 
tutte le opinion! llnora ricevute intorno a lei, ec." (an extensive undertaking) j and paying special honor ft 



APPEXDix ir. 403 



favor for the Cardinal, who thereupou came to Florence to show recon- 
ciliation, ib. 333. 

The bands of predatory soldiers, who were protected secretly hy the 
Church-feudatories, — nay, sometimes openly assisted them, so that, 
says the writer, "la depravazione facea apprendere 1' assassinamento 
come un esercizio cavalleresco,"' — added to the troubles. The most 
famous of these wretches was Pietro Leoncillo da Spoleti, supposed 
son of the Cardinal Faruese, who with a baud of four hundred mis- 
creants in various squads infested the frontiers, ih. 340. 

The Cardinal dissembling "aflects confldence and friendship 
1583 

,' I with the Grand-ducliess." ib. 382. 
15b4 

One of the Grand-duke's favorites at this time was the Auditor 

of the Treasury, Carlo Antonio del Pozzo, universally hated for his 
severity in office, but of rare learning and acute intellect and aptitude 
for emergencies, which compelled esteem. This office he held in 

1572 Promoted in 1582 to the Archbishopric of Pisa Conducted 

himself always with rectitude and disinterestedness, and, showing 
gratitude to the Cardinal to whose favor he owed his first steps in good- 
fortune, he used his influence with both to maintain their brotherly 
unity. Such a man could not always please the corrupt and weak 



the Xrcfiiuio Mediceo . . "quel prezioso (l<»po3ito di storici documenti " — wherein, he says, " con esilo cor- 
rispondente alia aspettazione, mi e venuto fatto di rinvenire gravisaime ed irrefragabili testimoiiianze in 
favore del nuovo cri'erio ch' io gia mi era formato di Caterina de» Medici,'* he prnceeds to assert that tho 
crimes imputed to hei will be found all to resolve themselves into the injustice of the two factions she en- 
deavored to conciliate, but which were emulous in her viliiicalion. 

Having myself endeavored to redeem the character of Bianca Capello from the calumniation of personal 
enemies, I could not but look with interest upon this elfnrt in a similar, yet in point of facts contrary, 
direction. He has massed together a variety of interesting documents both as to the two chief personages 
of his Essay, as he modestly calls it, and to characters with them historically connected ii.timately or re- 
motely; but he fails to overthrow, and indeed avoids attacliing anyone of those facts which are adduced, not 
by partisan or Protestant writers, but l>y contemporaries and plain chroniclers who not only present inter- 
nal evidence of probity, but are universally admitted to be reliable. Catharine of the Mtdici must, for all 
the industry and patriotism of her countryman, remain a Medici, — dissolute, dissembling, intriguing, inor- 
dinately as selfishly ambitious, false of tongue and frigid in heart, cruel, unscrupulous, remorseless; her 
very merits, as I have elsewhere intimated, the merits of her lather's family where best, — talented, adroit, 
resolute, audacious, magnificent in the use of wealth, whose resources she but valued for the purposes of her 
policy and the real or supposed lustre of her iniquitous administration. A bad mother, and wicked among 
the wickedest of queens, she ruined body and soul two monarchs, both her sons, and has left for herself a re- 
nown indelible as that of the Massacre with whivh it is associated, and. since undivided, even more infa- 



404 EIAKCA CAPELLO 



Francis. — Abbioso, liaving now retiirnod from Venice, because of 
the rupture witli that Republic, professed himself openly the enemy- 
of the Cardinal, to whose hostility he attributed his difficulty in getting 
the Coadjutorship of the Bishopric of Pistoia at Eome, "per esser 
guercio e difforme." But the new Archbishop of Pisa knew how to 
preserve the esteem of all parties. Affecting [note in this sentence 
the contradiction to what is said above of his constant rectitude and 
disinterestedness] to make the Duke and Bianca " gli arbitri di tutte le 
parti graziose del suo ministro, e mostrandosi esomplaro e zelante, si 
acqnistava opinione di santita e si preparava la strada al Papato." — 
The Cardinal dissembling, but ill-satisfied with this position of affairs ; 

and Francesco, showing openly disregard of his dissatisfaction, 

augmented the bolduess of his ministers and more exasperated his 
brother, (ib. 388-390.) 



1585 



Cardinal Ferdinand causes the election of the Cardinal Perctti 
as Sixtus v., and becomes thus omnipotent with the luw Pontiff. 



At the marriage of Donna Virginia with Don Cesared'Este [sub- 
15S6 sequently Duke of Modena], appeared her mother, the beautiful 

Camilla Martelli, after a confinement of twelve years. The Car- 
dinal and D. Pietro courted her continually and induced the chief 
people of the city to honor her, in order to disgrace the Grand-duke, 
p. 404. The rumored pr-;gnanc.y of the Grand-ducliess induced the two 
to return to Florenm to watch events. — Grand-duke shuts up again 
Camilla, moved especially thereto by the secret visits of his brothers 
to her. p. 405. Thehrothers correspond on the reputed pregncoicy of the 
Grand-duchess — profess to each other suspicions that she is going to 
impose a supjiosUitious child upon the G. B., to shut them out of the suc- 
cession, p 40G. D. Pietro appeal's throughout the dupe of the Car- 
dinal. 

The Cardinal, appearing to be reconciled, sent a gentleman, liis 
"^ confederate, to Florence, to announce his presence in Sep- 
tember. The historian says: "Facilito maggiormente questo ac- 



APPENDIX II. 405 

coraodamento Tessersi onnai assiciiralo [Francesco] della Tanilfi delle 
sno speranze, poiclie la gravidanza dclla Granducliessa si era gia 
disciolta lon una coJ.ica e non senza grave pericolo della sua rita [ob- 
serve I his !] di modo clie il caso di aver prole era ormai disperafo." 
ib. 419. If the pregnancy was assumed, why was the deceit ended ? 
I should rather have suspected that the colic, which 2'w' seriously 
in peril her life, was the result of pois(»i administered through tlie 
imi)ulsion of one whose interest was involved in the vanitij of the 
Duk: 's hopes. 

The Cardinal arrives October \ Received with every mark of 

affection and cordiality Went immediately with his brother and 

the Grand-duchess to Villa del Poggio at Caiano — wliere it ^vas cus- 
tomary to resort for the chase every autumn Granl-duchess exerts 

herself to mal-e a sincere iinion hetwien the two hrothers On the 8th 

Octobei-, Grand-duke attacked with fever, which the physicians pro- 

noimced to be tertian Two days after, the Grand-duchess with the 

same. — Besides the Court-physicians, Baldini and Ca'^pelli, the Car- 
dinafs physician, Giulio Cini, rendered his assistance. Tliey kept the 
malady concealed at first, but nevertheless confused rumors got abroad. 
It was reported to the Pope, the Grand-duke had made himself sick 
with eating mushrooms. But on the icth October, it was written, he 
had a continual fever and excessl -e thirst, (ih. 423.) On the ninth 
day, the fever increased, an 1 d?ath ens;i3d, October 19;h. "Voile 
sempre medicarsi a suo modo con cibi e bevande gelate [the desire 
for food would be caused by the gnawing pain in his stomach, and for 
the iced drinks, why not?], e siccome nel corso della malattia dimos- 
tro wKi sete ardentissima, fu creduto che morisse arso dai cibi e bevande 
calide delle quali faceva uso assai smoderato."(i2) When he knew 

(22) I suppose this case of BlancX and the Grand-rlulce, as well as that of tlie 
Carrlinal Ippolito, to be one of puisonin:; by arsenic (see Taylor as liefore 
citcrl, chap, x.xiii. p. 252 sqq ). Acconlhig to that English toxlcologi^t. arsenic, 
thou^'h it irritates and inflames, lias no cliemicul or corrosive action on the viscera, 
altliough on p. 255 one doubtful instance is recorded of a seriously corrosive ac- 



406 BI^'USrCA CAPELLO 



the malady was mortal, he called his brother, demanded pardon for 
the past, communicated to him the countersigns of the fortresses, re- 
commended his spouse, Don Antonio, his ministers, and all who were 

tion, the effects corresponding to that in the visceral membrane of the Cardinal. 
But Orfila, a much higher authority, ascribes a destructive action to irritant poisons : 
(Euv. cit. T. I. p. 75 ; also 421. He considers it incontestably iiroved, " que les 
plaques gangreneuses des tegumentsp«M»6re< egaletnent appartenir a tons lesp>oi- 
sons qui agissent avec une trcs-grande aciiviie." ib. G76. This is the language^ 
not only of experience, but of common sense. Yet while he cites (p. 76 1. i.) a case in 
point from Hoffman (cf. ib. ii. 896), he quotes on p. 421 the observation of Brodie, 
that spots of congested blood are often taken for eschars, and instances from th& 
game eminent English surgeon (in Philos. Trans, for 1S12) a case where a womaa 
dying on the fourth day, "^ Touverture du cadavre on trouva la membrane 
muqueuse de I'estomac et des intestins ulcere dans une tr6s-grande etendue" 
(434 sq.). He gives moreover (with which I will conclude my ample, but I hope 
not uninteresting, accumulation of instances) the case from Etmiiller of a young 
girl poisoned by arsenious acid, " jieii/ter whose stomach nor entrails offered any 
trace of infiammation or of gangrene ; nevertheless arsenic was found in, 
that viscus" 1. p. 420. Coinp. ii. 895. 

See ib. in vol. ii. p. 904 sqq., for a consideration of maladies which may be con- 
founded with acute poisoning. The passage affords nothing to abate suspicion in 
the case of the Duke and Bianea, and, whether the account of their ten and eleven 
days' suffering be correct, or the popular one of almost immediate dissolution^ 
there can be no doubt that the ill-fated pair were poisoned(a), while there is every 
probability that it was effected by arsenious acid, (b) Galluzzi says, " Nella sezione 
del suo cadavere [del G-. D. sc] la sede principal del male apparve nel fegato" 
{ut sv/pra, 424) : on the dissection of tJie I>uke''s body, the pirincipal seat of 
the malady appeared to be in the liver. Now, it is precisely the liver which, 
according to Taylor, is attacked by arsenic. And further I may add, that when. 

(a) Slamondi himself did not doubt it : . . . " empoisonne [Frangois], ainsl qae sa femmct dans un repa* 
de reconciliation, etc." %. p. 227, — citing, besides Galluzzi, imuillasi, Nalizia del Poggia a Caiano, p. 117 ; 
a work I have not been able to procure. Botta rejects with easy contempt the popular traditions, but does 
not commit himself to any opinion of his own. 

(b) The mineral poisons, and the mechanical poison (so to call it) of comminuted glass, were probably tha 
only ones in criminal use in the 16th century. In the first decade of the 17th, we observe Shakspeare- 
writing, 

. . " the thought whereof 
Dotb, like a poisonous mincrjl, git.iw my imvai'ds." 



APPEXDIX II. 407 



dear to hira. (23) The Cardinal, comforting him, sent to take possession 
of the fortresses, ordered the assembling of the troops, etc. 421. (24) 

they bled him (twice!) liis surgeons took the best means to give effect to the 
poison. (c) 

(23) Was this the stupid and cruel Medici, of Botta? the perfidious, merciless, 
dissolute and vainglorious son of Cosmo, of Sisraondi ? the dissembling, inex- 
orable and arrogant Prince, of Galluz/.i ? A man, I well know, may be of a loving 
disposition and tender almost to effeminacy, yet have that cuntradictory quality in 
him, Ihat, when roused by anger or peiturbed by boilily fi'ar. he will be in the 
former case ferocious, and in the latter remorselessly, no, unhesitatingly cruel. 
But while this absolute fact, not hypothesis, goes to confirm the unfavorable side 
of Francesco's character as displayed (after the manner of his day) toward his in- 
veterate and dreaded political enemies, j'et it will not explain bis devotion to his 
friends. A man who in his dying hour has forethought for all who are dear to 
him, particularizing each one, who, with that magnanimity which belongs to delicate 
and noble souls alone, exaggerating la his own eyes his own errors and losing 
sight entirely of the grosser offences of others toward him, could ask forgiveness 
of the brother who had persistently maligned, intrigued .ngainst, as well as hated 
him, and insulted the woman he passionately loved, such a man was more truly 
Christian than those who, forgetful of charity, emblazon but his errors and mag- 
nify his crimes. 

In thus speaking, it will be seen I assume the recm-d copied by Gallnzzi to be 
correct. But my belief, I beg leave to reiterate, is positively to the contrary. I 
do not credit one word of this death-bed scene. 

(24) . . '-11 quale non tarc/i a farsi ricononcere per padrone; perciocche, 
avendo mostrato il Castellano di Livorno alqnanto di renilensa a cons"gnare 
quella Fortezza ad un gentiluomo da lui inviafo cola con contrassegno, ?7 ./eca 
iinpiccare.'''' JIirRATont, idn. cit. The haste of the Cardinal, it will be observed, 
is not more remarked by Muratori than by Gallnzzi. It is a precious passage 
that, " The Cardinal, comforting Mm, sent, &c." 

Now, if the Cardinal was beloved of the people {Galliizsi), and if Francis died 

(c) " In case of arsenical poisoning, the liver ... is generally more etrnrgly impregnated with arsenic 
than the other soft organs. The proportion of absorbed arsenic found in it is, according to M. Fiandin, ntns 
tentlis of the whole (juantity carried into tUe circulation. Where arsenic is not found in the contents of the 
Btomuch, and death has taken place within theusnal period, it may commonly be detected in the liver.^' Taylor, 
p. C9. Orfila, on the contrary, who frt-tjuently condemns the opinions of Fiandin, scarcr-ly mentions the 
liver, if at all, among the viscera attaclted. Further, he prescribes bleeding {after vomiting) : i. 79. 



408 BIANCA CAPELLO 



Bishop Abbioso, Bianca's daugliter Pollogrina, and Ulysses Benti- 
voglio her son-in-law, were charged with the care of Bianca. She 
died on the 2Uth of October. (25) 

to the undissembled joy and with the universal hatred of his subjects {Sismoyidi), 
why did the former make sucli haste to seize tlie f.>rtresses? to seize them even 
before the breiith was out of his brother's body? Of whom was he afraid? 
Was nut the throne yet firmly settled? Or was there any doubt of the 
illei-'ilimacy of Don Antonio, whom he had made by a most atrocious plot to be, 
and still makes the world believe to have been, foisted on the Grand-duke, while 
a modern iiistoriin, to cap the climax of absurdity, declares him to have been, i/ie 
stupid J/ed!ci, perfectly satisfied when tlie Grand-ducliess with a sublime elTront- 
cry avowed the treasonous imposition? Again, if the Cardinal was persuaded by 
Lis documents, received from the judicial examination of the Bolognese Governess, 
and which he took care to have preserved iu the Medicean Archives, that Don 
Antonio was bvit a sprout from the soil of the people, having no claim to any con- 
sideration other than that of an innocent victim of the venality of his mother, wliy 
did he continue the Grand-duke's benefactinns to him, so immeasurably beyond 
liis occasions even were he noble ?(a) It is obvious that there must have been 
doubt and uneasiness in the popular mind, or where was the need to publish that 
act deditfatoiy of ihs iiativHy of D. Antonio? And bj' the by, assuming the 
account above to be correct, that on his death-bed the Grand-duke recommended 
this very youth to bis brothers care, how came Botta by the story that the Grand- 
duke knew all about his origin ? Seldom does history offer us such trumpery as is 
comprised in the account of the rise and fall of the Grand-duchess Bianca But 
the Cardinal was able to make history lor himself, aud [ verily believe he did it. 

(25) In the second month of this same year, Mary of Scotland was murdered in 
another way. The coincidence is worth noting. Both nearly of an age, but 
Mary a little theolder(b); both hands'ime, and with a fascination of uianner that 
enh.inced tlie beauty from which chiefly it was derived ; both amiable, yet not 

(a) "Anon AiUonio dc Medici conservti il tratfamcnto e le onorificanze assrgnateli da Francesco.'* 
CraJfluz. ii. A?>2. 

The idea that he should have done this out of re/rardy not onl}/ to hia brother's memorn, but to the innocent 
hoy whoae raore than bastardy he was prot laimiiig in his very face, is jrcposterous. D. Antonio wa:« rrob- 
nWy as legitimate as Elizabeth of Kiifl^na, who too was the product of a secret marriage, and, moreov.-r, by 
an act or big.tmy. 

(b) Bianca ned from Venice in 15C3. Jf she was Ihen eighteen, she was forty-two years old when poisoned. 
Mary, born Dec. 8, lilJ, on Febru.iry 18, 1587, when she w.i3 beh.-ajed. was but a little over forty-four. 



APPENDIX II. 409 



Taking this account to bo accurate, wo have those romarlcablo facts, 
that two persons, husband and wile, were seized with intermittent 
fever within two days of eacii otlier. and tliat, in despite of the re- 
sources of art, — for wo are not told that the Duke i rescribed for 
Bianca " a suo modo ", — died within a day of each otlier, conveniently 
to make the Cardinal sovereign. It were easier to believe the mur- 
derer himself, who said (as imputed to him), that Bianca, having tried 
to get rid of him, had the remarkable stupidity to poison tlie very dish 
her husband was sure to eat of. and of wliich she herself was known ' 
to b^ fond, and that unable, without exciting suspicion, to prevent 
the Duke's indulging his appetite, herself, In her desperation and dis- 

without pride and spirit ; both intelleotual, and one accompUshed ; the lives of 
both romantic, but one (Mary) liiiowing little else than mislortune, the other for- 
tunate uulil Iier de.ith; both ealumniaieJ, but Uianea having added toiler imputed 
crimes the sin of witchcraft, the hitter charge being reversed in Mary's case, for 
it was her liusljand who confessed he tried its futile practices upon her. while 
Bimca employed it, according to the Archives, on her husband, and (wonderful to 
relate !) with her husband's peifect knowledire. And (may I add without jire- 
sumption), as in the case of Mary StuinHa.), so some future tragic poet may 
reverse the picture of Biiinca Crt^j^Z^y, and paint her, not such as the Grand-duke 
loved h r, but as the Cardinal hated. The change would be still easier than with 
Mary, and the tragedy would be more effective. But the poet wouUI pervert, not 
liistoi-y, but that truth which lies often hidden in the miilst of history and is only 
to be :ound by those who independently seek it out for themselves. 

(a) I understand that Mr. Swinburne, in his drama of Chastetarff, has adopted, and with earnestness, the 
popular view against hur. It would be difiicult perhaps for an Kngiishmali to do otherwise. Were I to 
write a tr.igedy on a theme which lias been consecrated by the pen of Alfieri and of Schiller, I should, and 
w;th couvictinii, take the other side. 

The greatest source of Mary's misforlunes, and of her partial guilt, or at least of errors that partonli of 
guilt and are arraigned as such, was her light, ilianl,and thus inconstant temper. It she pardnned Bith- 
well, it shouU be remembered that she forgave too the insolent, the treasonable murder of Rizzio, although 
in the passion of the moment she had declared she would avenge it. In fact, she was unr.ttcd t.Tbeaqueen 
by those very feminine qualities which would have made her loved, honored and admired in private life, pre- 
cisely as Klizabelh, by the very opposite, more than respectable as a sovereign, would have been detcstablo 

The greatest real blot upon the character of the Queen of Scots is probably that which is suggested by the 
name of the drama above-mentioned. The vanity of chiilelard had not carried him so far in his i-resump* 
tion had he not misredd the encouragement in Mary's eyes. .\iid she suffered him to be sacrificed to save her 
reputation. In this too she was purely feminine, women who are very women feeling no more regret for 
those who perish by their coquetry than for the moth which singes its wings in the candle they dress by. 

18 



410 BIANCA. CAPELLO 



appointment, had the courage to perforin a kind of internal hari- 
kari ! 

As the Duke's hody was ordered to be opened, it was carried on tlie 
evening of that day to Florence with private honors, met at the gate 
by the clergy of San Lorenzo, the German guard and a number of his 
coui'tiers, and taken to the Church. For Bianca, Serguidi [Vittorio'a 
successor in the Cabinet] was ordered to keep the body untouched 
till evening, and then to have it opened in the presence of the daugh- 
• ter, her husband, and the physicians. [The torchlight would not facil- 
itate an inspection which otherwise was not intended to be more Jhan 
formal. What passed in the minds of the daughter and husband, if 
not of the physicians, may be conjectiu'ed.] It was carried in the 
same way as the Duke's to Florence on the 21st, then buried in the 
vaults of S. Lorenzo, in such a loay as not to leave any memory of her: 
" non voile il Cardinal Granduca che si ammettesse fra i sepolcri dei 
Medici, ma lo fece seppellire nei sotterranei di S. Lorenzo in modo tale 
che al pubblico non restasse di lei veruna mcmoria." ib. 420. Was 
either Isabella or Eleonora buried in the public vaults ? Yet both 
were notoriously guilty of many adulteries, for which finally they died, 
and one of them besides was said to have committed incest with her 
own father, and the other to have gone to her virgin nuptial-bed al- 
ready pregnant by her father-in-law. Bianca did not lend an ear to 
every one who ogled her, nor indulged in mean amours with her hus- 
band's pages. Yet History passes lightly over those godly actions of 
the princesses, or touches them with a pencil which has no caricature 
or a pen which writes no syllable of reproach, while for Bianca there 
is no abusive name too foul. Historian vies with historian to redouble 
epithets of contumely and to charge the picture of her imputed mis- 
demeanors with the exaggerated traits of sarcasm. Why is this? 
Because, like Mary of Scots, she had personal enemies, (26) and the 

(26) As the CavJinal, her lord's brother, was her adversary, at whose instigation 
and by whose machinations, aided often by the money he had solicited and ob- 
tained (0 the meanness ! and the perfidy ') through her aid, came all the evil. 



ArrEXDix II. 411 



arcliivcs of lier husband's family have passed through fingers which 
had the power to subtract and muUipIy at will. 

Implacable in his vindictive hate, the quarterings of Bianca's arms 
were removed by order of the Cardinal Grand-duke, and for them sub- 
stituted those of Joanna. He could not bear to liear her even called 
Grand-duchess. "Egli, irrilato di tauti arliflci ed intrighi di quella 
donna, non pote contenersi piu Ivngairtente nella simulazione. Ordino 
pertanto estinguersi ogni menioria che esistesse al pubblico della sua 
persona, e che si togliessero dai luoghi pubblici le di lei armi inquar- 
tate con quelle de Medici con sostituirvi quelle di Giovanua d' Austria. 
In progresso nel doversi far menzione di lei, non pote soffiire che U 
si attribuisse il titolo di Granduchessa, ed egli stesso in un atto de- 
claratorio del natali di D. Antonio voile che si denominasse replicata- 
mente la pessima Bianca." 425, G. 

The historian goes on then to relate what he calls the imaginary ac- 
counts. Bianca wanted to poison the Cardinal by a tart. The Car- 
dinal had a ring which changed color, and warned him. He would not 
partake of the tart. Francis, not aware of the danger, ate of it, and 

that accompanied her latter days and survived her in an infamous renown, so it 
was the natuial brother of Queen Mary (Earl of Murray) who was the secret in- 
stigator and promoter of all the schemes of her Protestant enemies. Murntori, 
ad ann. 158T, records the tragical result in this manner : — " L'anno fu [loi questo, 
in cui Elisabetta, P.egina Eretica d' Jnghi^terra, con elerna sua infami;i, condanno 
alia morte Maria, Regina Cattolica di Scozia, non suddita sua, dopo la priginnia di 
moltissimi anni. Fxij ella e prima e dipoi opprenHa da infinite calnnnie de'' 
suoi nemiei, per tentar pure di giustificar 1' atto barbaro e tirannico d" Elisalielta, 
riprovata da chiunque portava il titolo di PrincipeCa).'" Annul, d' Jt.ilia (in 
4to, Napoli, 1773), t. x. p. 462. Exception being made to his undissembled preju- 
dice against the heresiarch Elizabeth, his remarks are just, and would apply, 
nuitaiis mutandis, to Bianca. 



(a) This 18 an error. It was approved, as an act of policy, (as if policy could ever sancli 
more than the shadow of palliation to usurped power and to injustice!) by two or thr 
names, if ray memory does not deceive me, was the honorable and ever to be honored 



412 BIANCA CAPELLO 



Bianca, fearful of the consequence, partook, ib. " Imaginary," so far 
as this statement goes. But whence came the narrative which reverses 
all this, and which Noble gives, and I have adopted in the play ?(27) 
This account says, that there was served at the rapasthlancmange, of 
which the Duke was extremely fond. Ferdinand would not eat of it, 
pretending illness and disordered stomach. The poisoned pair were 
removed, in convulsions, to the only gloomy apartment in the whole 
villa. After their death, and then only, the Cardinal threw open the 
doors. He pretended Bianca vvishcd to poison him, but, seeing her 
husband eat of the envenomed sweetmeat, eic. (as above.) Here, it 
will be perceived, there is nothing in the detail that partakes of tiro 
marvelous or appeals to popular superstition. And it is perhaps for 
that reason, which adds to .ts probabilitj', th.at Galluzzi avoided men- 
tioning it, for it certainly was as worthy of record, even if based on 
vulgar fallacy, as its fellow-tradition. But in fact, this story has a 
particularity as well as plainness and naturalness of description which 
will not allow us, when considering all the circumstances preceding 
and following, and the ambitious and rancorous character of the Car- 
dinal, —a dissembler even by the aoknowledgment of his eulogist, 
forever plotting, and as unsci upulous as untiring in his schemes of per- 
sonal aggrandizement, — will not allow us, I say, to ascribe it wholly 
to the ordinary invention and exaggeration of popular rumor ; 
although, were it otherivise, the story, accepted by writers of that 

(27) In 'Murator' we are tol 1, the Gvand-duke died of an affection ("infei-miti."') 
supposed not to be dangerous, and Bianca ffiecn hours iifter. According to a 
conti'mporavy, many believed that Eiant-a, " donna di altero spirito," poisoned 
the Oranddulie out of jealousy, and tlien herself; others, that the Cardinal poi- 
soned botli. Annul, cf It. t. c. p. 461. 

It is plain enough, that the supposition of empoisonment, whether a murder or 
botli murder and self-murder, was widely prevalent, if not the universal be'ief in 
Florence. The ci'-cumstances of the twofold death, and of tlie malady preceding 
it, were then such as to excite this belief or suspicion. Consequently, If we set 
aside the nearly simultaneous attack an 1 its results, they could not have beoQ 
such as detailed in the Archives. 



appexdk: III. 41 ; 



aud subsequent times, is sufficient for tlie purpose of tlie dramatist 
wiio believes, as I do, that lie does not pervert the truth and give, to 
the great names of history, characters, whetlier for good or evil, that 
are undeserved. 



III. 

Tortrails of Bianca, etc. 

Having alluded in the text to a picture of Blanca by Titian, I have 
thought it would interest the reader to be told of certain portraits, 
both other and of the Gra.nd Duke., still extant in Italy. 

At the time the tragedy was written, I did not know that the im- 
mortal colorist liad really given to the world a likeness of its heroine. 
I merely supposed so probable a fact to iiid the costume., — that is, to 
invest the scene with those adventitious circumstances which lend it 
reality, and make a picture of Venetian life, for example, seem truly 
such by local accidents, whicli recall from time to time the place and 
era to the spectator's mind. But it appears that there ia actually such 
a painting extant, aud that it is, as I pretended, " One of the best from 
old Yecelli's hand." v. infra, 2>- ^Ui, sqq. 

In Count Litta's costly work {Fam. Cel. Ital., Milano 1825, in foL), 
in Vol. II., is a bust-portrait of Bianca after Bronzino (Gallery of Flor- 
ence). It is in colors. The face is very full, with the golden-tinged 
fair hair which Titian and Giorgione loved and understood so well to 
paint, very regular, long aud delicately-arched eyebrows, full and 
expanded forchead(l), eyes large and blue, and lively in expression, 

(1) Too much so for Iicauty. This is partly owing to the manner of dressing 
the hair, whii.-li is reverted on all sides, but partly- may arise fiom the bad judg- 
ment of the painter in exaggeraiing its surface, — as many Knijlish artists do, ab- 
sui'dly and untruthfully, the size of the eyes. 



414 BIANCA . CAPELLO 



nose not tielicate though regular, (there seems to be a defect in the 
drawing, or in the copy, which has thrown it a little to one side), and 
rather too large in the nostrils, lips curved and in proportion, but not 
handsome, and with an expression not agreeable ; the contour of the 
face more round than oval, — indeed of a faulty oval. There is nothing 
of the pride which Noble saw, or thought he saw, in the pictures at 
Strawberry Hill, nor yet of dignity, but rather of good humor and a 
slight degree of mischievousness and jocoseness. You sec from the 
complexion and from the fulness and moi-hidesse of the flesh, that she 
must have been a voluptuous-looking blonde, one of that kind of 
women whose flesh is very white and delicate in the skin, but not firm, 
with eyes of a true blue, red lips, and faultless teeth, who more than 
any others have power both to waken passion and to keep it lively in 
the amorous. 

It is probable that this polychrome is a bad miniature of an unfaith- 
ful picture ; for, as I have implied, there are faults in it which will 
indicate, to any one moderately familiar with the art, that the portrait 
was not tnie to nature, and that its faults have been exaggerated by 
the copyist-designer. It is true, the picture is of the Grand-duchess, 
not of the blooming maid whom Bonaventuri, with a fortune that 
makes his name seem almost the adaptation of fiction, snatched from 
her native soil to transplant where at a future day she should become 
the adornment of a royal garden, but even thus regarded, over ex- 
panded and partly faded, there is something clumsy, so to say, about 
the face, which cannot be Bianca. I am the more disposed to believe 
this from the fact that in Litta's plates the engraving after Titian of 
the Cardinal Ippolito in Hungarian costume difi"ers strikingly in the 
expression as well as in the eyes from the copy of the same work in 
the collection known as the Pitti Gallery. (2) Here we have the eyes 

(2) Tableaux, etc. de la Gull, de Florence et dii Palais nUi : in fol. Paris 
1814. T. III. Tal). 12. — This and all the worljs consulted in the Appendix 
■will be found in that Library which the far-reaching judgment and the munifi- 
cence of Mr. Astor ordained to be something more than an ornament of our city. 



APPENDIX III. 415 



placed at a normal distance apart ; but in the former they are so close 
together as to add very unpleasantly to the sharpness of the face in 
general, which is handsome but rather efleraiualc.(3) 

(3) As the Cardinal is nientionetl with some particularity in both the preceding 
Appendices, and is an interesting character in himself, especially to those who 
consider what might have been the fortunes of Tuscany, had he, instead of his 
cousin, been chosen to grace the unlawful title of Duke, with Cosmo thus shut ou* 
perhaps forever from the opportunity of an el' ction, a description of his iiictare 
will not be amiss, although it bears but a remote connection with the text, and in ■ 
an illustrative point of view is valuable solely from the light it throws upon the 
Komish rank of Cardinal conferred upon the younger sons of piinces or the bas- 
tards of men of power, without regard to character or qualifications or age, as a 
provision and a probable steppingstone to the Papacy. In this same casual light 
we are to consider the ecclesiastical function of the Cardinal Ferdinand, who, 
equally unqualified, though in another way, took it up as if it were but the nuintle. 
of a dead man, when his brother, D. Giovanni, on whom it was originally bestowed, 
came to his untimely end. 

The Cardinal Ippolito is represented with both mace and sword, and on the 
ugly hat or toque, red like the rest of the habit, is a variegated plume, the prin- 
cipal feather of which is green. We are told that this portrait was taken at Bo- 
logna in 1530, when Titian went thiiher to paint Charles V. Ippolito was then ia 
his twentieth 3'ear, an age when foppery is pardonable in a handsome man, nor is 
to be repressed though you wed him to the Church. Titian at the time was in alt 
the splendor of his power, and Vasari ranks this amoni the best of his portraita. 
The nose is delicate and rather sharp, the mouth well -formed, but, contrasted with 
the nose, sensuous. The expression of the eyes, as of the character of the face, is 
that of a generous, amiable, gentlemanly fellow, but who was not wanting in irasci- 
bility. There is no appearance of that pride which Varchi says he had in excess, 
neither in the style of his head nor its carriage, nor yet in the attitude, which, by 
the by, is without dignify, if not awkward, the habit moreover being to the last. 
degree ungraceful. 

There is another picture of Ippolito done by Pautormo. He is here in armor,, 
and a legend tells us he was then in his eighteenth year. He looks eight and 
twenty, even in the beard, which may be called an impossibility in so mere a 
youth. It is a fine face, manly, very regular, very handsome. One hand rests oa 



416 BTAXCA CAPELLO 



On the same folio -nith Bianca is a portrait of the Grand BuT^e Fran- 
cis, after Rubens, witli an air decidedly distinguished, the face good 
and regular, if not handsome. You would talie the subject, if in the 
ordinary costume of our own day, to be a man of consequence and of 
high tiishion, and somewhat of a free liver. It resembles much the 
picture of Cosmo by Bronzino. in the Pitti, not merely in feature but 
in the style of the head. In this latter picture, by the by, the expres- 
sion of Cosmo is not wliat one would have anticipated from his char- 
acler, but is positively good, as well as amiable, and highly intellec- 
tual. 

Another bust-portrait of Francis, by Brcnziuo, is in the Pitti Gal- 
lery. The liead large and intelk'ctual, willi great breadth and height 
■of forehead ; eyes somewhat stern ; lips well-formed and full, and 
perhaps sensual ; nose, good ; the face oval. 

In the same Gallery again (I speak of course of the engraved col- 
lection) is a portrait which is only supposed to be that of Bianca 
Capello. This also is by Bronzino. There is the same want of oval in 
the face as mars the one given by Count Litta ; the forehead is very 
high, but not so broad, nor are the eyebrows so long. The nose is 
lieavy, but regular, the raoutli well-formed. Tlie style of the face cor- 
responds to what I have ascribed to tlie other. In the explanation of 
■the Plate (29th of theGallery : r. m. )i^^'e are told: "Nous avonsim autre 
portrait de Blanche par le Titien, qui est tres-different de celui-ci, et la 
gravure, due au burin de F. Clerici, en a etc publiee par A . Locatelli, edi- 
tcur doVJconographie ItaUenne cles homines et des fenimes Ulustres.ii) 

liis helmet, the otlier on Ijis f;vvorite dog. Tins is the picture that best remimls me 
■of Varchi's repeated eulogies ; Ijut, consiilering Titian's mastery in portraiture, 
this, ttliich differs widely from his, may be supposed to he no true likeness. 

(4) After my death, when my countrymen may condescend to read these dramas, 
I liopethat some one interested in their publication will procure this work of Loca- 
telli's, and, if the picture bo as fine as rcproscnted, which m;iy be supposed, being 
ly Titian and of a woman, cause a carrful copy to be taken for the play. I should 
do this now myself, and mako the copy wiili my own hand, but my limited moans 



APPENDIX III. 417 



Le Titien 1' a representee dans toute sa bcaute ; bcaute quo Botta 
hesite a appeler angelique ou diaboliquo. Tout incllque qne ce por- 
trait fut fait par le Titien encore jeune, car on salt qu' a ses debuts il 
soignait extremement ses ouvrages. 11 n'avait pas encore acquis 
cette liabilete, cette franchise de pinceau, qui ne suffraient pas de 
retouche, comme on le remarque dans ses dernieres i7i-oductions.(o) 

" Ce que nous disons viont a I'appui de Topinion de ceux qui pen- 
sent que c'est la la Blanche Cappelio de Bronzino, quoique les deux 
portraits n"aient presque pas de resseinblance entre eux.(6) Titien 

are exhausted in the manufacture of these volumes, for which I have difficulty in 
finding, not readers merely, but even a publisher. 

(5) This is a positive error, and a very curious one. Titian was horn in 1477, 
and died, as the writer himself says, in 1576, being then in Iiis bundreth year. 
Bianca, we have seen, left Venice in 1DG3 ; consequently, when Titian was eighty- 
six years old. If painted two years before her flight, when we may suppose her to 
have been at most sixteen, he was then eighty-four. 

The error is enhanced by what the writer says of the retoxicldng^ although the 
passage is obscure in its construction and contradictory. Titian, or I am deceived, 
never gave up entirely, notwithstanding his temporary change of manner, that 
frequent manipulation which in itself alone would distinguish his handling from 
that of Rubens even were not the results and the general effect so different in the 
two chief colorists. This punctiliousness, this going over and over again, to bring 
the part up or down to the tone required, and to educe that harmony which is 
so undeflnable and yet so Sensible, was in fact a part of his method, and not 
merely the derived habit of his school, whose master was Bellini, fa) 

(6) This difference in portraits is another, though a mmor one of the perplex- 
ities of history. We scarcely find two pictures of any eminent person done by 
different hands, that are precisely alike. Sometimes the divergence is so great 
that no trace of resemblance can he found between them. The likenesses of 
Bianca Capello, if we include even that by Titian, do not probably differ from one 
another so much as the two of Mary Stuart given by Alberi in his Life of Catharine 

(a) It was while this play wag going thronsh the press, that news came of the destiaction hy fire of Titian's 
masterpiece, the Ftter Martyr, a work which even Haydon, when denying ideality to the Venetian school of 
color, expressly excepted. It is an event that I wish, for my own satisfaction, to thus chronicle, though with 
a feel!ng of pain that will have been shared by all the artist-world. 

18* 



418 BIANCA CAPEIXO 



niouvut en 157G, et la Ducliesso en 15S7. Le portrait qu'il nous en a 
clonue indique une jeune fille de moinsde vingtans, et c'est une oeuvre 
tl' une perfection exquise. Bronzino, au contraire, nous presente cette 
femrae celebre deja sur le retour. * * * Dans le tableau de Vecel- 
lio, la coiffure et le vetementsontdo Venise, tandis que les accessoires 
rlans le portrait de Bronzino ont un caractere floreutin, ce quelque 
chose d' espagnol qui au XVr siecle se repandait dans toute 
ritalie."(7) 

It is easy to see, even from this evidently defective portrait of 
Bianca on the wane, tliat she must have been, in the high day of her 
•attractions, as I judged by the picture in Litta's plates, one of those 
blondes, whose flesh is rather soft than firm, but exquisitely line of 
surface, and in which the red and white, red of the brightest and 
white of the purest, are so commingled, without the skin's appearing 

ofMeilici. The one from the Orleans Gallery is fat, voluptuous, heavy in tho 
nose, bad in the mouth ; and we should have to look long to find out a point of 
similarity between the picture of Catharine hers. 'If (when Regent), as given from 
the Florentine Gallery, and the very attractive one, as Queen, which precedes the 
title nnil is after Allori. 

The portrait of a beautiful woman will be more or less beautiful, according to 
the circumstances, with herself and with the painter, under which it was taken. 
That, which at one time and with a certain pencil comes out embellished, is at 
another time and by another hand di-figured. The sup himself, orhis apprentices, 
distort, and everybody knows how photographs may libel. It must be accepted 
that when History is single-voiced in attesting to the charms of any noted person- 
age, and the effects ascribed to them corroborate the testimony, that picture, which, 
with all allowance made for the anticipation of the imagination, so certain to pre- 
pare for us disappointment, is positively ugly, or without attractiveness, has been 
itself a failure, not tlio subject of it ovev-drawn. 

(T) lie need not have confined it to Italy. It was the court-fashion of the time. 
We see the high and ample ruff in the portraits of Mary of Scots and of Elizabeth 
of England. In tho one of the former that is particularized in the previous note, 
it is of the most preposterous description and <as it were a caricature of the fashion 
\a the supposed Bianca of Bronziuo. 



APPENDIX III. 419 



motLlecI, that it is difficult to say where one begins and tlie other ends. 
The fairness as well as fulness of the flesh is esptfcially conspicuous 
in the neck, in the liinder part of which, and behind the ears, the 
white grows captivating. Eyes of the deepest blue, large, tender or 
lively, accoi'ding to the will or the emotions of the owner ; light, but 
very long lashes ; brows regularly arched, very distinct, and of a 
rather deeper brown than the hair, which latter sparkles in the sun- 
shine like threads of gold, is so fine as to be taken up by the lightest 
air, yet so thick as to'show deep shadows ; nose regular, but too fleshy 
to be delicate ; a mouth well formed, — of a red, deep rather than 
bright, and dry, — the lips full and voluptuous witiiout being sensual ; 
the chin round and fleshy, and, with the lobes of the ears, looking as 
if tempting to be pinched or pressed. Add to this, the charm of har- 
mony and softness yet brightness of colors, those manifold attractions 
which all the writers speak of and Botta seems to grow enamored of, 
and which come not only of beauty but of mind, and of the heart, 
wdiich latter lends the Christian grace of gentleness and winning 
amiability, and we have before us that Venetian, who the Cardinal 
taught Florence to believe was subtle and perfidious, and whom 
Botta, without questioning the suspicious Archives, or following Gal- 
luzzi implicitly, knew not whether to pronounce angelical or of the 
devil. 



EXD OF THE FIRST VOLUME. 



BY THE SAME AUTHOR. 

Uniform with Bianca Capello: 

"CALVARY" AND "VIRGINIA": Tkagedies. 

1 wJ. Price, $l.nO. 

"THE SILVER HEAD"; "THE DOUBLE 
DECEIT": Comedies. 

I elegant vol, with gilt side-plate from the antique. $2. 

"ALICE, OR THE PAINTER'S STORY"; 

A ilKTRICAL ROMANCE. 
I vol. $1.50. 

,T XT S T li.lS:j^T> Y. 

DRAMATIC WORKS by LAUGHTON OSBORK: 

VOLUME I. 

Comprising "CALVARY," "VIRGINIA," and "BIANCA 
CAPELLO"; Tragedies. 

Fine paper, uncut; morocco cloth, beveled. $2.25. 

"THE MONTANINI" and "THE SCHOOL 
FOR CRITICS": Comedies: 

BEING IN CONTINUATION .VND COJIPLETION OF THE FOURTH VOLUME 
OF MR. OSBORN'S PLAYS. 

JAMES MILLER, Publisher, 



